The Diary of an Accidental Mary Sue
by Mhera and Co
Summary: A Tolkien fanatic gets dropped into Middle earth as a companion to a Sue. Constructive criticism welcomed. All canon characters and locations belong to Tolkien's estate.
1. Meeting the Demon

Chapter One: Meeting the Demon

* * *

I bet you've all read Lord of the Rings Mary-Sues. You know, the sort of story where the "ordinary" girl gets dropped off in Middle-earth to find out that she's been sent by someone to save the Fellowship and all that. But those girls always _want_ to go.

If only I had that much luck.

It all started one day when I was coming home from Brain Bowl practice. I turned the corner to this woody shortcut- hey, my entire _county_ is woody- that I use to get home from school and I heard a rustling behind me. I naturally assumed that it was one of those dogs that evil people just turn out to live in the woods. I turned around and the world went black.

When I woke up, I felt like that one time when Alex insisted on blasting punk rock music into my classical-world music- head. That, I should add, was the worst headache that I've ever experienced. When I looked up, I was utterly confused. The trees above me were not pines like those at home, but oaks- actual oaks. Okay, so I landed in one of those deciduous groves that pop up every once in a while in pine forests. Then I looked beyond the trees to the sky. That's when I stopped short, because no sky on earth has that many. And then I looked down, which was a big mistake.

I looked different.

Hanging over my shoulder was hair. My hair was normally shoulder length, but now it reached below my waist and was thicker than it had ever actually been. I stood up in terror, and then I noticed that I had undergone the complete extreme makeover. In the space of when I had blacked out and when I came... here, I had grown about six inches and lost two skirt sizes. I didn't think that I changed in skin color, but I normally have paper-white skin. Fortunately, I had been wearing a long dress to school, so now it just hung loose and came down to my calves.

Before I could scream in shock, which I was near approaching, someone came up behind me. I was kind of scared, since the last time something was following me in the woods I ended up being transported into another body in another universe. At least, that's what I thought happened. But a soft voice said, "Do not be afraid."

I whirled around and saw HER for the first time. SHE looked lovely- that is the only word for it. SHE had a river of golden hair that reached down farther than mine, and was as pale as can be, except for her dark blue eyes. Her face was perfect. "Umm... where am I?" I asked.

SHE laughed delicately. "You are in Middle-earth."

Okay, time out. I am in Arda? And why was SHE using the English word instead of the term that would be used here, if that is where I really am? "Pardon me," I said politely, seeing as SHE had a sword. "But this is very hard to believe. Am I really supposed to accept this?"

Another laugh, "You must, for you shall stay here."

"Um, why?" This blondie was starting to get on my nerves.

"Because you are now my companion. I cannot travel without you, and you shall die if you remain here. It is a win-win situation."

And that's when it hit me. This _demon_ that I was stuck with was a Mary-Sue. She showed all of the signs of a Sue: absolute beauty, lovely laugh, hideous interior. And then it hit me again. I am the _slave_ of a Mary-Sue, no matter the term she uses. Worse than that, I had become a person with the outer semblance if a Sue who was the servant of a bona-fide Sue. And as an added bonus for HER, I am the world's worst wimp. Before that little nearly-nonexistent piece of bravery in me could come out, I said, "All right," very quietly and looked down.

She smiled triumphantly. "That wasn't so bad now, was it? And now I can offer some of that background information that you wanted." She turned her face upwards and whistled. Suddenly, from the sky popped out a figure that looks like it was made of a star. "Companion, meet my godmother."

A gentle voice completely incongruous with the omnipotent shape said, "It is a pleasure to meet you. May I speak to you alone so I may explain everything?" So I, the wimp, nodded and followed her (I _think_ that the shape is female, after all, she is a god_mother_) deeper into the woods. As soon as we were out of earshot of HER, she stopped glowing as much and said, "I need you to help me with my goddaughter."

O-kay. There's a person who's made of flame and needs my help, and I bet it isn't with homework. "No offence, but how can I help _you_?" Note to self: do not insult beings that burn.

"I need you to get rid of my goddaughter. Goodness knows how long I've waited for this to happen. She wanted to go to Middle-earth, so I dropped her off- into a pack of orcs. But she screamed so loudly that she frightened the entire score away; they thought she was a Ringwraith telling them to clear off. Then she demanded acompanion to help her while she headed for Rivendell and beyond. So I chose the first girl I could find who actually has down the concept of life pre- tooth bleach, and who knows Middle-earth already, which happens to be you."

Point one taken care of. "So... what do you want me to do?"

"Simple- get rid of her. Get her lost, away, so long as she doesn't get around here again where she can bother me. I have promised to allow her to go to Rivendell and leave there with the Fellowship, and goodness knows how long it took me to figure out how to mess up Elrond's mind enough to allow her to slip through. But don't kill her, or her mother will kill me."

Okay, point two dealt with. Onto point three: "What exactly did you change about me?"

The figure laughed, but it was a wholesome sound, unlike HERs. "I have changed little, believe me. Your hair I did not change except in length. Height was simple, and you lost the fat when you gained the vertical inches. No changes anywhere else, except the eyes." My jaw dropped about three inches. "I didn't change the color, if that is what you were afraid of. I just corrected your vision, since you wouldn't be able to wear your contacts here. Your eyes will be a lot sharper though than when you wore corrective lenses." Being the stupid person that I am, I reached up and tried to feel my contact lenses. That was a very bad idea, since I was no longer wearing them. While I was trying not to scream in pain, the figure continued, "And that's it. Can I trust you with the job?"

Wimp alert! Wimp alert! "I guess so." Gah, I have been taken over by wimpiness.

If the shape had a face and it wasn't dark, I could swear she was beaming. "Thank you so much. Oh, and to regress to the subject of changes, you need to change into something a little longer and warmer. Here." And she handed me a dress that looked like it was a blue-ish grey and felt like wool, and then she disappeared. So now I'm stuck with HER. Just great.

Oh, and an explanation of this book: an empty leather-boundbook was folded in the dress with three pens. I guess it was meant to be a place where I could quietly seethe. Note to self: find out the date. Second Note to self: do not let HER read this thing; she'll probably decapitate me.


	2. And You Thought You Knew

Anybody who thinks being stuck with a Sue would be fun should go right now and throw themselves off the battlements of the nearest castle. I am serious; go do it right now. Traveling with HER is the worst thing I've ever had to do. Neither of us can make a fire, and I, growing up in a forest with some pyromaniacs, learned early that you simply do not light fires where there are trees unless you like getting burned. And SHE is constantly complaining about something or other. But late at night when SHE thinks I'm asleep I can hear HER plotting. Her goal seems to get every male who appears cute in the movies to fall for HER. SHE's starting on Aragorn and then plans to leave him for Legolas who SHE plans to leave for Faramir who SHE plans to leave for Legolas who should be so infatuated with HER that he wouldn't notice that SHE ever left him in the first place. Hah! He is an elf, not a mindless slug. Although I haven't actually met him, or any other elves for that matter yet, so I should probably not form any opinions right about now. But if he is able to see for miles in ahead of him, I bet he has a brain and a long memory to go with it.

SHE also cannot travel very quickly. SHE had asked for a horse for each of us, but her horse is the feistiest creature I have ever seen. Of course, it is a pure white mare, but she has the soul of a demon. My horse looks like an Appaloosa, and she is very sweet and is helping me get over my horse phobia. And fortunately, SHE can ride and is teaching me; not in the tenderest of manners, I assure you. But we have to stop every few miles so I can brush through her mane of hair. I also noticed that SHE wears an amulet on a gold chain around her neck. If relations improve (which I doubt) I'll ask her what the amulet does. Oh, wait, I know. It's one of a Sue's evil tools. I'll bet is summons the godmother. Great, another thing that I have to get rid of.

* * *

Yay, Rivendell- I finally get to meet sentient beings. SHE magicked the door warden into believing that we were from a hidden land, come seeking shelter. SHE also gave me a name, and I hate it:

Kelanna.

I know it sounds Elvish, and that's because it actually can be broken down and translated, but "flow of gifts"? Come on, that makes no sense at all- in my case at least. And I think the door warden agrees with me about that, since he cocked an eyebrow when SHE called me. Although now, SHE has a name, Miriel meaning Jewel-star. If someone can think of a more Sue-ish name, I would stare at them for eternity. Ugh, foul name.

We got put in rooms next to someone who I think is Arwen. If she's not, then she has to be her unknown twin, because I don't think you could turn up the pretty-ness in her. And really, there are no words to describe her. It is an innocent sort of perfection, unlike HER's, which is the essence of evil. She is also incurably naïve, because she _likes_ HER. That won't last very long, since SHE is probably going to start hitting on Aragorn the second SHE sees him. SHE was hoping for Legolas but hasn't been able to find him yet. If the Valar know mercy, they will keep him away from HER.

Okay, she is Arwen after all. I got to talk to her today. And I got to clear up a few things. "Are you Miriel's companion?" she asked.

I nearly choked on my own saliva. How did this news get out? Oh, right: HER. "Sort of, because of a threat."

Arwen looked dubious. "Pardon me, but you don't seem to be the sort of person to cave into a threat."

I snorted in a very un-ladylike fashion. "Au contraire. I am the world's worst wimp. That's why I'm here in the first place."

Arwen looked confused. "What does this mean, 'au contraire'? I am not familiar with the phrase."

Stupid, _stupid_ me; I forgot about colloquialism barriers. "It's an expression. It basically means that nothing could be farther from the truth. And you should watch out for Miriel. She's got a plan for Aragorn."

Poor, naïve Arwen cocked her head. "I fail to understand you."

I snorted. "You will understand when you see it."

* * *

I met Legolas today! Don't mistake me; he is absolutely hot, but in a way very different from the movies. For starters, his hair is coal black, kind of curly, and short-ish. I guess now that it makes sense to have short hair if you live in the woodlands so that it doesn't catch on anything. His eyes are grey, but a sort of grey that makes you think of grey as a color rather than as a shade of black. And one of the more interesting facts is that his ears aren't pointed; they're more normal human-y shaped. So instead of thinking of Orlando Bloom as Legolas, think of him as Paris and you've got his basic looks (although I have to say the real Legolas is a lot hotter than Orlando Bloom- but no! Must stop Sue-ish thoughts!). But most interestingly, he _glows_. No joke. When he's in the dark, it looks kind of like a night-light with a thin shade over it. He would be really bad at hide-and-go-seek in the dark, but that's random. And fortunately for him, SHE is looking for an Aryan elf; and hopefully for him, SHE will never catch on to the fact that he is not blonde after all nor does he have blue eyes. Wait, who am I kidding? SHE's found an excuse for attending the council in a few days, where Legolas gets introduced. And then we go with the Fellowship. I was so stupid to believe that we might actually stay in a city with a library.

Also I just found out something that would make HER really mad, and will help Legolas fight HER off. And it just goes to prove that just because it's not in the history books doesn't mean that it doesn't exist.

Legolas is married to an elf in Mirkwood; one in the gob for all his fangirls. From what I've heard, she's just the sort of person I'd wish on him; she's kind and quiet and is a strong person- err, elf: the opposite of a Sue soul. If I get back, I will totally spread the word all over the Internet about her. But then people wouldn't believe me. And worse, _if_ I was believed, this poor girl will have Sues trying to kill her for the rest of her life. It would be a terrible existence and probably one shortened considerably, and Legolas would be left a very sad and sought-after widower. And what's more, he has a young daughter too who's still in a stage of Elven toddler-ness. I can just see the cuteness, you know, with a father like that...

Also, he is also not the only child of Thranduil. He has an older brother whose name I cannot spell in Mirkwood trying to figure out something about the spiders there. Again the clues are there to hit me in the face; would a king _really_ let his only son or his firstborn go off on such a dangerous mission or leave and set up his own city? Gah, I was- am- such an idiot. I would kill myself if I wasn't such a wimp.

* * *

Hah! SHE is dead meat, or as the elves might say, warg fodder. Arwen caught HER on the arm of a very confused Aragorn. She would have lunged at HER if I, Glorfindel, Legolas, and the Peredhel twins didn't intervene. We didn't do it for HER, of course; we just didn't want to see Arwen kicked on the boat to Valinor because of a murder. Though from a comment by Glorfindel, almost any elf who saw anything happen would instantly swear that they had seen a wolf earlier and that it was not Arwen who attacked HER, but the wolf, and that Arwen was trying to help. And Elrond would ask no questions.

* * *

Arwen just informed me of the inevitable (that SHE and I are going with the Fellowship to Mordor) so she has named me unofficial champion against HER. To help me accomplish my mission (run HER through if SHE gets within two feet of Aragorn) she has been teaching me to use an Elvish sword. That godmother must have also sped up my reflexes, because I can actually block stuff. Arwen says that I'm doing very well for a human who hadn't picked up a sword until two weeks ago. She also gave me some clothes that I'll wear when I go with the Fellowship: a rose-brown tunic-dress with matching leggings and leather boots. The skirt part of the tunic-dress is like a split skirt, so I can run and still look feminine. Arwen has also given me a new name: Arë. She agrees that the name SHE gave me is stupid, but she thinks my real name is decidedly _dwarvish_, and therefore disgusting.

* * *

(Note to self: find out date as lines using up valuable pen ink!)

My nightmare is started. Tonight, SHE came in our room and sat down on the bed, looking at me through narrowed eyes. "One of those twins pointed out Legolas to me today. You were talking to him." I stayed silent. Moving like a cat, SHE got up and raked her long fingernails down my cheek. "He is mine, you hear, _mine_," SHE hissed.

This is rich! She believes that I'm going after Legolas. Not only is he married, we're just friends at most. And Miss I- Must- Have- Every- Hot- Guy thinks that he's sweet on me. Does SHE even know the meaning of a platonic relationship? Actually, since most adults don't know that word, her ignorance is not best explained in that example. But I'm not about to tell her about "Mrs. Greenleaf" so said elf won't end up at the bottom of a river. It's for Legolas to tell HER. Meanwhile, SHE calmed down slightly and said with concealed venom, "We're going with the Fellowship. I suggest you get ready."


	3. Little Sister

**January 7 (finally I have a date!)**

Guess where we are now? Yep, we're almost in Hollin, or Eregion, depending on which language you like to use. I think SHE must have drugged Elrond into letting HER come, or maybe that was the plan that her godmother had in mind- to get him incapacitated enough to lose all sense of judgment. But we made it out with the Fellowship, and nobody stopped us. I personally think that any of the elves who actually got to meet HER would have gladly let HER go anywhere that orcs or other nasty beings that might swallow HER alive. That probably wouldn't work, since Mary-Sues have more lives than a cat.

SHE is in for a road trip, literally. There is no running water here nor tooth bleach (ha-ha!) nor hairdryers. Why list the last one? It rained last night, and it was extremely funny. SHE moped about her hair being ruined and all that, and then SHE made me comb through it- all three and a half feet of hair that SHE had insisted on leaving down. I, with a burst of forethought, braided my hair into a literal rope that reaches down to my waist. It hasn't dried out yet, but I don't have to brush it.

I think I've probably done more walking than any time during my life. I was a far cry from an athlete back home; just ask anyone at my school. But I think that godmother did something with my lungs and muscles, since I'm not dead by exercize-induced asthma attack yet.

--

Legolas came over today while we were walking and asked what happened to my cheek. I automatically reached up and winced as I touched the scabs from the cat-moment that hadn't disappeared.

"I made a cat angry," I said placidly.

Legolas raised his eyebrows, which I now can translate to be disbelief or surprise. "No cat has claws like that," he said.

I responded solemnly, "Maybe not the cats you are familiar with, but the _cat_," I emphasized the word gently, "that I think of has claws very much like this, and does not hesitate to use them."

A great thing about elves is that they pick up on foreign expressions very quickly. Legolas said slowly, "Well, if this _cat_," he also stressed the word, "wishes to scratch you again, many would come to your aid."

"Thank you," I said with a smile and moved off before SHE could see that we had been talking.

**Even later**

I got to talk to Gimli today, who is probably the only male that SHE knows about and still will allow me to talk to. "Where ya' from, lass?" he asked.

It took me a second to realize that someone had managed to get past HER to talk to me. "Umm…" I had to think- where could I come from? "I come from the north-east."

He looked pensive for a moment. "Are either o' your parents from Dale?"

Okay, more lie time. "My great- grandmother came from there; my mother says that I look just like her."

I think that made sense to Gimli, because he said, "There's some good blood in Lake-town from Dale." If I read his nearly illegible facial expression correctly, I seem to be on the dwarf's good side. I would not want him on my bad side, and if I am lucky, SHE will end up on his bad side within the week.

Then I got to talk to Boromir. At the next break, he came up to me and asked, "What is your mistress' business here?"

I didn't really know what to say. "I don't really know what SHE volunteered us for." Liar, liar, pants on fire. I guess I was terse because I don't want to get to know Boromir that well, since he's going to die. If I change things to let him live, he and Aragorn will probably get into a duel to the death and if Boromir wins, the entire fate of Middle-earth would be blown to smithereens. I cannot try to change the slightest detail; I do not want to be remembered as the chick that ruined all of Middle-earth.

Boromir seemed to think that what he had said was rude, because he looked away. "I apologize, Miss. It seems that I know little of our Fellowship," he added wryly.

I returned the wry smile. "As do I." I then leaned in confidentially (OMG! I can_not_ believe I did that!) and whispered, "I have doubts on her motives. SHE has Plans." I glanced over to HER; SHE was trying to sneak up on Legolas, who had figured out enough of The Plan to go climb a really tall tree. It was all I could do to not laugh when she figured out that there was no way that she could climb trees in the outfit that she was wearing, which was a full-length dress.

**January 8**

I'm in trouble now, and it was from the least expected corner. "How old are you?" asked Aragorn in a conversational tone.

I shrugged, "Fifteen, why?"

At that, all hell broke loose. Sam stopped stirring the stew until it boiled over, Merry dropped a large rock on Pippin's foot, Frodo stared, Boromir choked on a piece of dried meat and had to be pounded on the back by Gimli, who was staring at me, Aragorn's jaw dropped, and Legolas' eyebrows disappeared under his hairline. SHE, of course, was smiling in a satisfied sort of way; how could a mere girl compete with HER? "You… you are _fifteen_?" asked Aragorn, this time with incredulity.

"Yes, fifteen. Do I need to spell it out for you?" I was getting irritated. Now they'll think that I'm incapable of doing anything, I thought.

And I was right. "Fifteen?" scoffed Boromir. "You're but a child."

"Fifteen, naught more than an infant," said Legolas so quietly that I don't think anyone else heard him; I did because my dad did ear-training with me from the time I could understand sounds.

I was about to retort that I technically had been an adult womanfor the past two years, but seeing as everyone save HER was male, I didn't think that that idea was so bright, so I just walked off into the woods to seethe about unfairness and equal opportunity.

**Later**

Did I mention that hobbits are really nice, especially Pippin? I swear, I could hug him.

Right after I stormed out of camp, Pippin came to look for me. I cannot yell at hobbits; I found this out quite early. So I couldn't stop him from jabbering on. "I know what it's like to be the littlest," he said. "The others think I'm stupid because I'm younger than any of them. But I'm not, _you're_ not!"

I couldn't help but smile. "You're right, Pippin. Thank you." He literally beamed back at me. While he was feeling happy, I did the mental math. In hobbit years, he was but a year or two older than me- nothing at all, really, once you think about it. Then I got to thinking about the ages of everyone else in the Fellowship. I did not know how old Gimli was in solar years nor how to convert them to regular years. Legolas is probably about seven millennia old, which is slightly less than fifty in elf standards- that's old. Aragorn is about twenty- nine in Dunadain years, and the hobbits range from thirty-seven to said seventeen in hobbit years. I don't know, and don't want to know how old SHE is. Oh great, now _I'm_ the one ranting about ages. But if they're so concerned about ages, maybe Gandalf should go back to Rivendell instead of me. I mean, he's been alive since the Beginning, and that is OLD.

**January 9**

If I know my calendar correctly, today is crebain day. Boromir is helping the hobbits with their swordplay, and Aragorn's helping me with mine, since once, a very long time ago, the Peredhel twins forced him to learn Elven swordsmanship. I say that he was forced because he hasn't picked up an Elven sword in over twenty years (about seven in Dunadain years, for those of you who are curious) and most people continue to do things if they like them; but then again, Aragorn isn't "most people." I did learn some from him today though, like what sort of weapons you should try not to fight (anything stabby), what sort of cuts you can and can't do (slashing works best), etc. Arwen apparently taught me proper form, but didn't tell me what to do in a battle situation. I have to say that Aragorn's trying his best, but he keeps on telling me to run and hide if we encounter anything. He didn't even tell the _hobbits_ to run and hide! I pointed this out to him and he just responded, "They are older than you." It seems that I've gained an older brother- one who won't let me do anything on my own.

--

Make that two older brothers (of the same genre) and an uncle. And cousins- lots of cousins. Boromir started to worry that I would get burned if I got within a five pace radius of the fire, about sixteen feet. Gimli's been trying to tell me how a "proper" weapon is made (so far, all I have learned is that my "flimsy" Elven blade would snap if it ever met orc armor) and has been giving me Dwarven history lessons. The hobbits have sucked me into their society ever since I became friends with Pippin (This one has been very interesting because hobbit- families put a lot of stress on food, and the only place to cook food out here is, you guessed it, the fire; hence Boromir's going spastic). Fortunately, Gandalf and Legolas aren't acting any different (they practically ignore me); I couldn't take it if everything was different. Well, if everything would change, _including_ HER, I would grin and bear the rest of it- especially grin.

SHE is still vile, but less so in public. I mean, who in their right mind would _want_ to pick on someone that both Aragorn and Boromir seem to think of as a little sister? But in private, SHE is despicable. And I found out for a fact that the amulet- a talisman, actually- is a magical instrument that allows HER to contact her godmother; I saw her talking into it. So, in order to lose HER like I was ordered to, I'm going to have to steal it or something, and "misplace" HER in the middle of Amon Hen without HER noticing it's gone. This is going to be a piece of cake- yeah right!

**January 10**

Crebain are really, really ugly. And when I say ugly, I mean worse than what SHE deserves to be- well, not that bad, but you get the picture. Think of gigantic rabid crows with gangrene, and you have crebain. And unlike in the movie, these were flying over _all day_. When the first ones came, everyone (except HER) pushed me and Frodo into the best hiding spot and found ones for themselves. SHE tried to hide with Legolas, but he was hiding in a tree (I wonder what he was hiding from- the crebain or HER- since it would be a lot easier for the crebain to find him in a tree) and then SHE tried going after Aragorn, but he was nowhere to be seen, so SHE had to find her own hiding spot. And boy, was SHE mad when SHE crawled out of that bush! Her hair was tangled (again) and SHE insisted on me brushing it when we stopped the next time, which is now, at the base of Caradhras.

**January 11**

I don't care what Legolas says, I believe I am going to freeze. My toes are feeling like they are made of ice and if I touch my nose it will almost certainly fall off. I am a _Florida_ girl, born and raised, for goodness sake! I have not experienced real cold, nor have I seen so much snow. Caradhras has both; it is not called "The Cruel" (as Gandalf is so fond of reminding us) for nothing. Everyone except said elf is trying to keep from freezing to death, even HER, but _strangely enough_, no one will allow HER to join our little warmth huddle of freezable creatures, which includes the hobbits, Boromir, Aragorn, and me. Being sandwiched between two hobbits (namely, Merry and Pippin) is better than could be imagined, since they are so nice about it. Fear of me getting burned aside, Boromir thinks we should light a fire. I agree with him on that; maybe the hobbits could teach me more about cooking. Hopefully how to not burn a salad, which I _have_ done. Note to self: do not put lettuce anywhere near a burner.

--

The fire idea was scrapped, seeing as neither elf nor dwarf nor man could get the wood that we brought up to light. If I remember correctly, Gandalf should use magic to light the fire soon, but he doesn't seem to be in a hurry to do so. Said elf is walking on top of the snow and, I am ashamed to say, bragging about it. Remaining cheerful under these conditions is obscene. This is the first time that Aragorn and Boromir have agreed on anything: Legolas, for his and our good, should be pushed off the mountain. Yes, I have to agree with them on that one; I shall watch as Legolas' fangirl armies (including HER) storm Caradhras to brutally murder Boromir, Aragorn, and me for such an insult to his honor. To be fair, Legolas is also our only hope out of here, because we are stuck between a rock and a hard place (well, snow and a cold place). The way forward is completely shut off, and the way behind us is not easy either. Hey, maybe if SHE freezes up here we can leave HER to die!

Oh wait, I just remembered- SHE can't _die_. SHE has to get _lost_ and live a miserable existence in some nearly unlivable location in Middle-Earth, and I have to get rid of that talisman. If I wasn't a wimp, I'd be swearing right now.

**January 12**

Too late- I swore. For the first time in my life, too. SHE decided long ago that I might be competition, but now SHE sees me as a serious threat. In order to protect her own interests, SHE has started to try to "eliminate" me. Of course, SHE couldn't just call up her grandmother and tell her to send me back- SHE has to try to kill me. I am so lucky that I have nine guardian angels, because I'd be dead right now if I didn't.

I don't know exactly what SHE did, but I remember waking up this morning to feel cold on my face. When I opened my eyes, the light was dim and I couldn't see very far. Then I inhaled- or tried to, because there was no air to breathe. I struggled slightly, but realized that my arms and legs were pinned under me, and that I had a lot of snow over me. I couldn't scream if I wanted to (which I did) because there was no oxygen. I started to feel dizzy, or as dizzy as one could feel lying down. Just as my vision started to go funny, I heard the sound of snow being moved and the light got brighter. I don't know how long it took, but the next thing I was aware of was being pulled out of my cold grave (I had figured out that that was the intent) and being carried over towards a fire (I don't know by whom). Then everything was painful. I know the pain meant that I had circulation in my legs and arms, but I could have dealt without the pain all the same. That's when the stream of curse words from various languages that I had filed in my memory for just such a situation flew out. Well, I was muttering them the whole time. From then on, my memory is clear. "How did this happen?" asked Aragorn. "There was no snow there when she went to sleep last night, and it was packed down."

SHE shrugged. "Maybe the mountain dislikes her." Man, does SHE catch on quick when SHE needs to.

Legolas shook his head firmly. "The mountain would not hold a grudge against a child, no matter her ancestor's deeds."

"We should go back down the mountain, in any case," said Gimli. "She'll recover quicker if she is in a warm environment."

Boromir agreed to that- firmly. He is so sweet; I don't think he could care more for my safety if I really was his little sister. So everyone decided that as soon as I am capable of walking, we would travel down the mountain. Gandalf proposed a quick fix with the Imladris liquour, but Aragorn, Boromir, Sam (who had firmly taken me under his wing) and I pointed out that "children" such as me cannot drink it, due to the high alcohol content. As soon as I could prove to Aragorn, Boromir, and Sam that I was not dead after all, we descended. The decent was a lot easier than the ascent; I think the mountain did that on purpose. Cruel or not, it wanted us off!

* * *

_Reviewer responses:_

_**Angeltread**:I'm glad you got your cookies. When I replaced chapter two (there were some formatting issues with that one) I forgot to re-type the reviewer responses, so sorry! And what language is "kawaii chingo"?  
**Lior-a**: Thanks! Have you written any stories, but just haven't posted? I'm curious like that.  
**Cainwen the Warrior**: Yes! Power to the nerdy girls! I'm a nerd myself, although I like to call myself an intellectual elite, but I don't seem to make many friends that way... And people do really need to understand platonic relationships. For anyone who doesn't know what that is who's reading this, that's a relationship between two people, usually of opposite genders, with no romantic involvement between the two parties._


	4. Eru Save Us

Chapter Four: Eru Save Us

_Note: For this chapter, I highly recommend getting a cup of spice tea and a cookie for comfort food, since this has the Gandalf death scene in it. But I hope that it's still funny._

* * *

**January 12**

We took a vote for which direction to go in: towards the Gap or towards Moria. Only two people voted for Rohan: Boromir and Legolas. Boromir obviously wanted to go somewhere humans lived and not somewhere where dwarves lived, and no self-respecting Elf would go within leagues of a Dwarf residence if he had any choice whatsoever. I didn't vote because I am not supposed to be here, and SHE voted, along with everyone else, for Moria. I have a bad feeling that SHE intends to attempt to cleanse the Fellowship of problems- namely, me. Gimli was nearly beaming when the totals were announced, well, as far as his dwarven-ness would allow. I kind of felt sorry for him; his uncle is living down there somewhere- or was. I don't even want to think about that.

**January 13**

I've decided to keep count of the Legolas-Gimli totals, since I know they'll want them later. So far: Legolas-1 Gimli-0. And the crowds go wild! A Warg came into camp today, and said elf got him in the throat. All they really are are huge wolves- they come up to my shoulder. Not pleasant.

--

Would someone remind me _why_ the dwarves had to hide their doors? It took us _forever_ to find them, and we were already tired out from killing all those wargs. Update on the Legolas-Gimli contest: Legolas:12 Gimli: 9. Legolas got the leader; he lost one arrow though, but the tip is intact.

And now we wait for Gandalf to figure out the password. He's tried some Elvish rhymes, some Khuzdul, and some words I don't think I was supposed to hear. And now he's just sitting there. I was pacing until Boromir said, "Patience is a virtue," with nearly criminal placidity.

"One I am fast losing," I grumbled. _I_ know the password, but Gandalf has to say it. Can't he hurry up? I mean, come on, the password is _written_ on the door. If Gandalf just read the inscription aloud phonetically he would open the door. But _no_, he can't consider the hobbit's suggestions.

--

I just thought of something: what am I going to do once I complete my mission? Is that godmother going to come and send me back right where I left off? Or is something more complicated going to happen? I actually don't know whether, if given the choice, I'd like to go back. Frankly, the only thing that was going right was school. But that sort of success only stretches so far.

--

Wait, what is that I hear? Is it the dulcet tones of the password? Finally!

**January 14**

If you've read the books, you know what comes next. If you've watched the movies, you know what comes next. And though I have read the books _and_ watched the movies, I was scared stiff when those tentacles shot out of the water. They first went for Frodo- duh. The guys rushed for the tentacles- that is to say, Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, Sam, Gandalf, and Boromir rushed for the tentacles to destroy them; the other hobbits just stood there in shock, waiting to be crushed by the flailing tentacles. Thinking fast (upon reflection, not thinking at all, which if you ask anyone like Mhera or Lisa or Milla or Alex, you will find is not something I do often) I grabbed the back of their collars and pulled them out of the way as a tentacle came crashing down where they had been. I then pulled them into the mines. What possessed me to run into a place that will soon be shut in that is full of rotting dwarves is beyond my thinking, but I did. It must be some sort of maternal instinct to protect beings smaller than me.

If it is, it's the stupidest thing ever imprinted in the female mind.

--

Yay, we're trapped. And Erusave us, I'm going to die.

Why you ask? Because there are two of THEM.

It happens, every once in a while in Mary-Sues. THEY can call in reinforcements if need be. And now, we have _two_ Sues. Miriel and Alquawen. I am seriously considering borrowing Legolas' knife and slashing my wrists completely open. Well, I would if I wasn't such a wimp. Gods above: what have I done to deserve this?

_How_ Sue Two got here is beyond my imagination, but she suddenly appeared after the doors crashed down. Sue One made a stupid excuse about why Sue Two is here (something about a sixth sense fit in there somewhere) and the Fellowship actually _believed_ her. Again, I resisted the urge to impale myself on one of those dwarven pikes that seem to be everywhere.

And may I mention that rotting dwarves smell really, _really_ bad? I literally had to find a corner and lose my supper because of the stench. At least everyone (besides Sues One and Two) was sympathetic. The hobbits look genuinely green, but I don't think that Morgoth himself could make a hobbit give up his food, especially when it is as scarce as it is here. And I feel really sorry for Gimli. He was looking forward to meeting his uncle and cousins, and he comes and finds that they are all dead.

--

Did I say that I was going to die? Well, I was incorrect.

I am _so_ close to death it is not even funny.

Yup, the first stop we got, Sues One and Two started planning my demise. They found a rather secluded ledge that you couldn't sneak up to without being seen, nor could you hear what was being said on it anywhere near it. But the cavern we were in was like the Basilica- in the particular part where I was standing I could hear the most private of conversations (only in the Basilica it's usually confessional you can hear, not murder plots, unless you have a really weird murderer who confesses his plans). "We've got to get her out of the way," whispered Sue One. Even though I couldn't see her, hearing her nasally voice every day for the past few months has nailed it into my memory permanently- I'm scarred by her for life.

"Yeah, but how? That smelly dwarf and Boro- whatshisname like her. And Leggy won't help us, or Arrie." I nearly laughed at those ridiculous nicknames, but if I could hear them, they could hear me.

"Simple- we can just push her off a cliff somewhere. There are plenty of opportunities if I remember the movie right. There's even a bridge thing, I think."

I moved out of my little spot so I could think aloud, well, cry aloud into my sleeve. Unfortunately, a certain elf heard me. "Are you all right?" he asked.

My smile was watery. "Of course. Though the two _cats_," our code word again, "have finally decided that I am too much of a liability for them."

"So they plan for your elimination?"

I nodded. "That's one way of putting it. I ought to have an unfortunate accident, most certainly fatal, before we leave the caves."

He stood up. "I must tell Aragorn. It is not safe for you here."

"No!" I hissed, standing up. "If the _cats_ end up harmed, or worse, dead, the one who sent them will end up most certainly killing me in revenge. And I don't think that you can stand up to a star."

"A _star_ sent you?" He cocked an eyebrow. I have noticed over the past few months in Middle-Earth that elves tend to express all of their emotions via eyebrows. Their mouths and eyes don't change a lot, but they have a surprising amount of eyebrow dexterity. I know it sounds weird, but it's true.

"That's what I think. It's either that or she swallowed a Silmaril."

He laughed slightly but then grew serious. "If they try anything, _anything_, you must tell Gandalf. Swear it." Then he did something completely unexpected and unpleasant- he _loomed_. And trust me, you do not want an Elf looming over you, because it is downright scary. It makes the loom-ee lose all common sense.

"All right!" I squeaked. "I swear!" Gods I've never heard of, I'm a wimp. But hey, he stopped looming, so it's not all bad.

**Still January 14, or maybe 15; I don't know**

Dwarrowdelf today! It actually makes you feel absolutely miniscule, and it's made by _dwarves_. I think the sight would have even Alex slack-jawed, and that's saying a lot. Miles and miles of columns that you cannot see the tops of filled the hall. And apparently this is just part of the city- it was a lot bigger earlier. Though I have trouble imagining this stark hall actually being a trade center or any place you might find living creatures that weren't lined up ready to march on a foreign army.

Oh, great, Gimli's found a passage. It's Balin's tomb, I know it.

**January 15 **

I knew it would happen.

It is in the books; it is in the movies. It _had_ to happen or a lot of things would be messed up.

Why then am I so upset?

I know; it's because I am human. I _feel_ for people because I belong to the stupid species. The hobbits were probably hit the hardest, since they thought that as long as Gandalf was with us, we would come to no harm. Even our hardened Elf warrior broke down and shed some tears. But Aragorn stood firm, because he couldn't cry. He was now the leader of our group, and his sadness was overweighed by a terrible sense of fear- he doesn't know what to do.

--

I should probably start nearer the beginning. The passage Gimli found did lead to Balin's tomb. Sue One and Sue Two were looking around. I heard Sue Two ask Sue One, "Where's that well? We can push her down it in the fight." Well, guess what girlie, there isn't a well in the tomb. Tough luck for you.

Right after the whole book bit (I really don't understand how anyone could read it- it had been literally soaked in orc blood) there was this cockroach- y sound from outside. And that's when I saw my first orc.

Orcs are about two inches taller than Gimli- in short (hah, a pun!) a lot smaller than I would expect. They really looked like cockroaches standing on their hind legs. And unfortunately, they wanted to squash me. So I had to squash them first- so to speak. When I cut through the first one's neck, it made this horrible sound like brittle plastic breaking. And trust me, I was feeling so sick that if I wasn't overtaken by terror I would have thrown up everywhere. So being the world's worst wimp is coming in handy after all.

After a lot of plastic breaking sounds and screaming (some unmistakably from Sue One and some probably from Sue Two) there came in this horrid walking talking rock- to be more specific, a walking, _bellowing_ rock. I heard Aragorn hiss some words I definitely was not supposed to hear, and he launched himself at it. I couldn't look after that, because I was busy trying to squash another overgrown cockroach. And as soon as it started, it was over. The troll was on the ground, the orcs were either dead or run away. And then we heard some odd sounds. So we started running for the bridge.

Down steps.

Down steps made for dwarves.

Yup, the whole thing was very steep. And I was aided in my decent (or very nearly so) by Sue Two neatly bumping into me so that I might have _accidentally_ been tossed over the edge if Legolas hadn't grabbed my arm and pulled me back up. Thank you, guardian angels. The score is now You: 2, Sues: 0. Anyways, we finally made it to the bridge, and frankly, it really, _really_ needed handrails. As soon as we got to the other side, Boromir pushed me ahead, saying, "GO!" so I ran for the exit. I saw neither Balrog nor fall of Gandalf, but I could see terror and grief wrought on every sensible being's face. The other two faces (Sues One and Two) were sickeningly pleased.

I got to see Sue Two really for the first time. She has raven black hair, green eyes, and carries a katana- yes, one of those Japanese swords. How and why she brought it into Middle-earth is beyond my imagination, but then again, she is a Sue. She is _beyond_ things such as common sense and rules.

Update on the elf-dwarf contest: Legolas: 29, Gimli: 30. Way to go dwarf!

* * *

_I don't want to turn into a review begger, but I would ask that as I have very little experience writing for my readers to PLEASE leave a message, and PLEASE include some notes for improvement! The story won't get better unless someone tells mewhat needs improving._


	5. Oh No!

Chapter Five: Oh No...

* * *

**January 16**

The good news is that we have finally met up with some kind of civilization.

The bad news is that the civilization that we have met up with doesn't like us one whit.

I guess I shouldn't complain. I mean, we were being chased by freakin' _orcs_ until we found these people- err, Elves. Okay, they actually found us and scared me half to death in the process.

We were running from these orcs that were chasing us out of Moria when we arrived at this river. Legolas named it as the Nimrodel, and he started singing this tune to himself. If I make it out of here alive, I'll remember to ask him for the words; it was a nice song. I didn't ask him earlier because he was giving us history lessons on Lórien, criminally cheerful for someone who is being chased by myriads of evil counterparts. Actually, Legolas is almost always criminally cheerful, so I may never get a chance.

Anyways, as soon as we had waded across (finally a large-ish body of water! As a Florida girl, I need large bodies of water or I feel dried up) we entered Lothlórien. Those trees are _huge_. Absolutely _humongous_. But our condemnably cheerful Elf decided to climb around a bit. All of a sudden, this voice from nowhere called out, "Daro!" I nearly fainted in fear, because I'm such a wimp.

Legolas' ironclad optimism suddenly faltered, because he immediately jumped down and tried to make himself as small as possible against the tree trunk, which he was dwarfed by but not concealed by. Another voice called out something, and Legolas answered. If I didn't know such a thing was possible, I would have sworn he was stuttering. Merry and Sam were whispering to each other, when Legolas said to Aragorn in a low voice, "They bid me climb up with Frodo, for they seem to have had some tidings of him and our journey." Then this rope ladder came down from a tree branch above me, making me jump. I scooted over to a tree where the others were standing while Legolas and Frodo climbed up the ladder. I didn't think it could hold Frodo's weight, since it was so thin, but the rope must have been made of something really tenacious, because it held.

Looking down to my fellow companions. Aragorn was looking wistful, the hobbits were looking quite out of their depth, Gimli was looking distrustful, and Boromir was nearly out of his mind with fright, but he never would admit it, least of all to me. So I decided to try and help him, though it probably wouldn't work. I stood beside him and said quietly, "This land is strange, is it not?"

Boromir nodded back, "It is most certainly odd. People living in trees instead of on the ground!"

"That was a very hobbit-ish statement," I observed.

"True," he admitted, a little bit more at ease. Any mention of the hobbits seemed to make him feel better, especially if it was about Merry and Pippin, who were under his wing along with me, so to speak.

Soon enough, Legolas came down. "We are to climb up," he explained. He gave a wary eye to Gimli, as if he doubted that he could climb the height that proved to be great. But climbing ladders to get to and from the deep places under the mountain greatly aided our friend, and he managed to get up. Aragorn, who went after the hobbits (the hobbits were first), said that you could almost see it in the eyes of the three Elves (other than our own obscenely positive one) that they were keeping score: 'one point for the dwarf, but there are five thousand wanting.' Then up went Sues One and Two. And then my turn.

I had not climbed a rope ladder or a tree since I was six. But I managed to get up rather quickly- more quickly than the Sues, at any rate. I could swear that all three of the Elves were surprised (that is to say, their eyebrows shot up) when they saw that I, a fifteen year old girl, was traveling with these hardened warriors and very important people. But any expression of surprise was erased when Boromir came up behind me and placed a firm hand on my shoulder, glaring so hard at the three that I could feel it on the back of my head.

At first glance, all three elves looked very much alike, and were very similar to Legolas, except their raven hair was straight and worn in a short-ish ponytail instead of curly and too short to be tied up. But their eyes were harsh, as if they had seen much more death than anyone of their species could handle and remain humane. The tallest one, Haldir, barked (yes, _barked_) that we were to stay up here tonight. Then I noticed the ears:

Haldir's ears have five, yes, count 'em, _five_ points. Like a maple leaf.

There is no more to be said about that.

--

The hobbits were really worried about sleeping in a tree (they like heights no more than my mother) but they managed to settle down. Gimli, Aragorn and Boromir managed to get some sleep (Aragorn hit the hay- err, talan, instantly) and Legolas was off talking to some distant cousin on the other side of the huge talan. But I couldn't see the two Sues, and that worried me. The last time they weren't in front of my eyes, I almost ended up splattered all over any hard surface that might exist under the bridge of Khazad-dum. I also realized that I was a little too close to the edge of the talan, but I couldn't get any farther back, because I was leaning against the trunk on the narrowest part of the platform. Suddenly, I felt a hand from behind me, gently 'encouraging' me to fall off the edge. I luckily grabbed a hold of the cloth-swathed arm and bit my fingernails into the skin (through the cloth; yup, my new fingernails are sharp) and I heard this hiss and the arm instantly let go. I immediately shifted my position so that I could be seen by anyone looking at the trunk. So it's Guardian Angels: 2 Me: 1 Sues: 0.

But all the Sues need is one, and I lose. Oh _joy_.

**January 17**

We're in Caras Galadhorn, and it took some time to get here. We all had to be blindfolded, because of Gimli. He insisted on us all wearing blindfolds because he had to. Our cheerful Elf was not so happy about it, but eventually gave in. When we got to the city, the blindfolds went off, by the order of the Lady, we were told. I noticed that there were four holes with brownish stains on the edges on the sleeve of Sue Two. Hah, take that, you imbecile! I may not be as old as you, nor as pretty as you, but I may inflict pain on you! HAH, I SAY!

Anyways, we met the two important people here- the Lord and Lady. I really can't recall the meeting, because there is a dreamy sort of aura around that hall that makes you sleep while awake. Memories run together so that the only thing that comes out is the stark truth. And the truth about Lórien is so densely covered that there is no truth- just a bunch of false intentions and wishful thinking. Which, I have been told by Legolas, is really what the older Elves are about. They cannot see the truth sometimes for fear, and instead grieve for futures that could have happened. I actually think that that is the reason why Legolas was chosen for the Elves; of all of that species readily available, he was the youngest, and thus, more prone to hope.

**January 18**

I've been called to the Divine Presence.

Apparently her ladyship has decided that I didn't say my whole part yesterday, so I now have to report in full by myself. Oh _fun_.

Galadriel was standing in this little glen surrounded on three sides by mallorn roots. She waited patiently as I figured out how to descend properly to the bowl area. When I arrived, she said (rather bluntly), "You were not to be here."

That did it. "I _know_ I shouldn't be here; but I didn't really have a choice! I have to keep things from getting any worse messed up than they are. That's my _job_!" Then I suddenly realized who I'd mouthed off. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, "I'm just a little frustrated, that's all."

"You have a right to be," she said in a very calm voice. "But I did not say that you _should_ not be here, only that your presence here was not in the Song." Whoosh! What is that sound? That is the sound of a comment going right over my head.

"Ummm... okay," I said uneasily. "So, why am I here?"

"There is someone we must talk to, and she is not disposable until the Sun sets."

"Oh."

So we waited for about thirty minutes, during which time I could play the Jepordy song in my head for a full sixty repetitions. And then that star shape came up. "Nice to see you again, Alatariel," said the light pleasantly.

Galadriel bowed. "Likewise. I believe you know this maid? And would you please stop glowing. I know you can stand in normal form; I have seen you do it. And you will attract attention."

"That shape is anything but normal," muttered the shape, but the glow died down and was replaced by a red-haired woman clad in white and yellow. "All right, what is this we need to talk about?"

"Arë," said Galadriel to me, "How many times have those wenches under the disguise of humanity tried to kill you?"

I frowned. "I think… three times."

"Well, it was more than that. Thrice in the caves they tried poison in your stew, only Legolas sensed it once and Aragorn saw it twice and they prevented it. They tried to kill you in the caves more than once during the battle under the mountains, but they became distracted. And last night, Alquawen tried to stab you with that thing that looks like a knife, but it was shot from her hand before she could come near you. She believed her grip to be shaky." She smiled sardonically.

The red-headed woman shook her head remorsefully. "Oh my. What have I gotten you into?"

Galadriel replied for me in a voice as sharp as the sword I carry. "It is not a question of what will happen, it is a question of how you will alleviate the situation."

She thought for a few minutes, then spoke. "I have a possible solution, but it involves... complicated things."

"Such as?"

" Arë," the redhead turned to me, "I am sorry, but I need to tell you this now- you can never return to your home. I didn't know that that would happen, but it did. I have pleaded with Ilúvatar himself, but he said that I could not take you across the barrier again."

I was in shock. I would never see home again. I would never be with my friends, never bait my enemies, never groan over schoolwork, never enjoy a cup of cocoa again. I barely heard her next words. "This much I can tell you of your new life. If you do not accept my aid, then you will die at the hands of my goddaughter and her friend. If you do take my help, you shall live, but you shall not be the same person as you are now. Which do you choose?"

I thought a moment and then voiced my decision. "I cannot make this choice on what I wish, rather, what this world needs. I need to rid the world of these two, and reverse the damage they have done. It is my duty." I took a deep breath. "I shall take your aid." I sounded like a bloody speechwriter.

The redhead smiled bitterly. "Then here is your new fate. I'm so sorry this had to happen." I saw a flash of blinding light and it lead into darkness.

**Same day, but events from three days after previous entry**

Gods, why did this have to happen?

When I woke up, I was in confusion. There were so many sounds- water droplets outside for miles, it seemed, were all falling in my ears. Myriads of Elves were talking outside, but I could not understand them. Countless leaves were rustling onto a microphone whose attached speakers were right next to my ears. It was terrible. Then I made a mistake to open my eyes. There were so many colors, my head spun. Things were shaped as they should, but the coloration was different, more acute. I shut my eyes and tried to think rationally, which was a struggle. Maybe I had picked up a disease and was hallucinating. Maybe I had developed schizophrenia. If only that were true. I half opened my right eye and looked down at my hand, knowing what I would see but hoping nonetheless.

It was glowing.

--

I was in shock. Changing species is no easy switch, especially if the sensory perception is changed. But not only was my perception of the world changed, I personally had changed. I felt different, like what I used to think cats felt like; I felt _poised_. But all this new sensation was making me dizzy, when the Lady herself came in. I covered my eyes with my hands, she glowed so brightly. Almost like a searchlight. "I am sorry," she whispered; it sounded very different from the last time I heard her. "But we had no choice."

I clenched my eyes shut. This couldn't be happening, not to me. It was Sue-ish! This was breaking one of the fundamental rules of this universe. The whole reason I was here was to make sure that as many rules were kept intact as possible.

"Not so," said Galadriel. Dagnabit, I'd forgotten that she can read minds. "You see, your particular species of human is not the same as the one here. The ban does not apply to you. It's a loophole in the will of Ilúvatar, to use terms familiar to you. And you are not evil if you take advantage of the same things that Evil does." That didn't explain the glow -or make me feel better- but hey, I could survive this- immortality thing.

I hoped.

I breathed in and breathed out. "Okay, I have a few questions now."

I could feel her smile (evil new senses!) "You may ask as much as you wish."

"All right. First of all, who is the red-headed woman?"

"She is not _exactly_ a woman. She is Arien, the bearer of the sun. That is why she cannot come but at night."

Whoa, whoa, _whoa_. Time out. I nearly mouthed back on one of the Maiar? Valar save my broken body!

"Second question. Is this permanent?"

This time I could feel her grimace. "I am afraid so. But you have the capacity to deal with the change." No surprises there, but hey, I could hope.

"How can I learn to deal with this?"

"Unfortunately, you will have to relearn a lot: walking, probably; running, certainly. You will even have to relearn the art of your blade. However," here she paused and actually sounded a bit cheerful, "It will all happen a lot faster than it did the first time to learn these skills."

"What about the hearing and sight?"

She paused again. "I do not know what you have gone through in that respect, since I have never undergone your particular change. But I surmise that your senses are a lot sharper in those departments. Sight you will have to get used to, in time. However," another pause, "the hearing is another problem. You had a trained ear for a human, do you not?"

"Heavily trained." I wasn't bragging; it was the truth.

"Then you will have to learn to dull that sense. Otherwise it will overwhelm you. Now, to start with the simplest task. Open your eyes."

I opened them, and I was greeted by a rush of color, just like before. Only I kept my eyes open this time. "I would advise looking at the ground for a while," said Galadriel calmly. "Looking to the trees would only make you lightheaded." I looked at the boards. Those planks that had seemed so smooth only hours ago were suddenly quite textured and uneven. My eyes traveled to the chair on which the lady sat. There were patterns within patterns, scrolling in different directions. Then I looked at the Lady's dress hem. It was very neatly done, probably because it was sewn by eyes that could gauge imperfection. The threads were also more even than I had expected. I couldn't look directly at the Lady, because of the fierce glow, but I assumed that I would see her in greater detail if I could look and no imperfection would be hidden by impairment.

"I think," I ventured to say, "I can get used to this."

**About week**** later, since I've lost track of time**

She wasn't lying when she said that I would need to relearn how to walk. In fact, it took me two days to get enough coordination to walk across the room. Now I've moved on to this new thing- running. It is a lot harder than you would think. Now the nerves are connected differently to muscles, so it's not easy to do any major motions. But hey, I'm doing pretty well. I had to relearn _walking_ for goodness' sake, and I managed it in two days. It's been a week total and I can now manage a brisk jog. Go me!

The hearing bit's been pretty hard. Turning off a skill that took years to hone is not easy. I've also learned that I can't try to look at anything more than a hundred paces away or I get dizzy. Which, of course, is not really that convenient, seeing as the entire reason I got these super-eyes was to be able to see the Sues sneaking up on me.

I am happy to add that this change thing also negated some of the effects of my last change- the Lady calls them "secondary effects." First off, I am back to my hard-earned five foot three and three quarter inches, since most elves are shorter than humans. Even Legolas is shorter than Boromir. Secondly, my hair is dark auburn (I was born strawberry blonde) since all elves that I've seen (excluding the Lord, Lady, and Glorfindel) have had jet black hair. But unfortunately, it's still as thick and long as it was before all this. Drat the hair!

**February 16 (hah! Another date!)**

We leave today, and we all got gifts- even the Sues. Merry and Pippin got dirks that were like swords to them. Aragorn got a brooch that was passed to him from Arwen, and Boromir got a golden belt. Legolas got a bow and quiver, and his criminal optimism returned. There had been a little lapse in that annoying attitude when I was relearning motile lifestyle, but now we have an Elf that would be bouncing off walls if there were any of substance to bounce off of in the area.

I did relearn running, and have run faster than I ever have before. I also relearned the sword-saber-thinga lot better than the first or even second times. I mean, there are trained warriors here who have spent millennia learning how to use this thing, and I got the benefit of their training. I assume that the Lady told them that I needed to learn or die for lack of knowledge and they sympathized with my youth, but for whatever reason, I got some proper training at last. I also got down the looking far away, but I learned the hard way to never look above the horizon- I did it once and was reduced to a nonmotile state for two days. I'm still working on the hearing, but I've toned it down a bit. But I digress.

Back to the gifts. The Sues each received a gold necklace- something pretty, appeasing to them, and completely useless. They weren't even made of anything valuable. Gimli, of course, got the biggest gift of all- the regard of the Lady for him and his kin. I think that makes up for the five thousand points that the three Elves we first met were counting. And I got a small, discreet dagger that I can hide in my boot- top- flap- thing. I have a special plan for this dagger, and I think it'll come in handy when we get to the Falls of Rauros. That's the next major opportunity for murder, as long as I row in the back.

Oh, and I found out who Sue Two is headed after. Right before the boats left, Haldir came up behind me and said, "If fortune favors you, let your dagger find its way to that black heart of the Swan Maiden," and disappeared. Who'd a thunk that Sue Two would be a Haldir fangirl? Well, if she manages to survive until Helm's Deep, man will she be disappointed. Note to self: Laugh. Hard.

* * *

_Reviewer responses:_

_**Outlawblue**: Ever wondered how I get these things up so fast? That's because they're already written; I'm just doing a lot of tweaking._

_**Angeltread:** Ah, the great inspirer of Dr. Suess. Gotta love Thing One and Thing Two. I think we should do a comparison with IQ levels- Things or Sues: Who's Got More Brain Power? The downside is we already know who's smarter._

_**Laer4572:** I can give that to you right now: Sue One: 0, Sue Two: 0. Tsk, tsk, those Sues should study something other than the males in the immediate vicinity._

_**Cainwen the Warrior:** Yes, huzzah! Without nerdy girls, there would be no next generation of Chess Club and Mu Alpha Theta members._

_**Tera Earth:** Finally someone who agrees with me about Legolas' hair. The new point (he he) in question: Can elves have multiple points on their ears? All Tolkien said was that they were leaf-shaped. I think I like the maple-leaf look._

_All my readers: If you really like it, please review! I even accept anonymous reviews! Please? I shall wish you cookies. And it works, too! Ask angeltread!_


	6. Down the Falls in a Barrel

Chapter Six: Down the Falls in a Barrel... Or Not

* * *

**February 18, day 3 of the ceaseless rowing**

Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream... hah!

My arms are so sore they can barely move. I keep telling myself that they'll get better, but they haven't. So I'm in my _un_happy place right now- right behind the Sues and their putrid hair. For safety's sake, I sit behind them in the first boat. They can't kill me without risking drowning, since they'd have to turn quickly enough that I and my new reflexes couldn't block them, and so Legolas, Aragorn, or anyone else could hurl a projectile at them; such a quick turn would probably upset the boat and they would drown with their heavy skirts. Ah, thank the Valar for small favors- like pants!

Bad news: I just realized that I must have dropped one of my three pens while in Moria. At least it was the one I had used up the most ink in.

**February 19, day 4 of the ceaseless rowing**

Thank Ulmo for current, thank Ulmo for current, thank Ulmo for current. Man, without that stuff, my arms would have filed for abuse from having to row all the time.

**February 20, day 5 of the ceaseless rowing**

I have a suspicion that someone saw something last night and didn't tell me. Oh well, nothing interesting to report.

**February 23, day 8 of the ceaseless rowing**

We had the first interesting event in days. Unfortunately, it was a bunch of orcs, or _yrch_, depending on your language preference. And then the rapids of Sarn Gebir. Oh _joy_.

We had intended on portaging around the rapids when those stupid _yrch_ archers attacked. Then we were forced onto the river. Unfortunately (I seem to use that word a lot) there were orcs lining both banks, so we couldn't land anywhere close or go off into the woods. At some point on our downstream voyage, someone (cough, _me_, cough) hunched down in the boat and tried to look as log-like as possible. The other boats caught on, including the two idiots in front of me, who were screaming really loudly when an arrow came within three feet of them. No changes in the totals, since Legolas was too busy being a log for him to shoot anyone. Sue One was very disappointed that her obsession did not prove his superiority to ugly dwarves again.

Once we got far enough away from the last orc attack to satisfy Aragorn's paranoia, we evaluated the damage. No one died- unfortunately for all us non-Sues. One arrow had gone through a loose part of Aragorn's cape, another had to be cut out of the gunwhale of the third boat, and another pierced through the cloak, jacket, and shirt of Frodo, but didn't hurt him since he had on the mithril coat. Of course, it was my job to mend the hole in Aragorn's and Frodo's capes and the jacket, since I am the only one who can mend a tear decently. It was pretty funny.

**February 25, last day of ceaseless rowing!**

Oh. My. Goodness.

The Argonath are beyond huge. They are _humongous_. I have no idea how they were made, considering the tools that would have been available, but evidently there is some sort of way that that could happen. I remember watching a television program on public TV where they would investigate ancient structures like Stonehenge and obelisks and try to figure out how they were made. If Middle-earth ever gets televised media, I am so going to suggest it.

Anyways, the first thing Legolas did when we got to the falls of Rauros was take out his old bow and insist I learn how to use it. I had tried archery twice in Lorien as an exercise to improve my mid-range vision. That was when I discovered why the insides of my sleeves are extra long and are lined with leather. The elves who showed me how to actually hold a bow said that I was "passable for a novice," meaning that I stunk but might improve if given five hundred years. So Legolas was ready to start his five hundred year investment- it isn't as if I don't have the time. _Valar_, because of this species change I have _eternity_.

So within my first hour of instruction, I managed to hit the "target" about a third of the time, which was a circle a handspan wide etched into a dead tree. But Legolas said- very gently- that my chances of killing an unaware orc are about one in ten and my chances of wounding him are one in five, and my chances of hitting a moving target are about the same as the stars outshining the sun. So now I am sentenced to _daily practice_. Yes, I must practice every day we can fit the time in until my failure rate is obliterated. No misses are allowed. I, of course, believe this is totally unfair. Last month I could barely _walk_, and now I am expected to learn every weapon that they can find to shove in my hands. There is just so much information that a girl can absorb, people!

I guess I'm being unfair. This skill will probably end up saving my life, what with Sues One and Two.

**February 26**

Today was _the day_. Yes, I mean that day- the one where everything falls apart.

We were just sitting in camp when someone (I can't remember who) noticed that Frodo and Boromir had gone- bad sign number one. So they all went off in search of Frodo and Boromir- except me, because I tripped and fell on my face. _That_ was a major surprise, since I didn't expect it. Moreover, why didn't my new eyes see what I tripped on, and why didn't my new balance help me? But I didn't really have time to contemplate the contradictions of this world when my new reflexes saved me from certain death by Sue sword. I jumped up and faced my attackers, drawing my sword in the process.

Surprise, surprise.

"We're sick of you getting all the attention!" hissed Sue One. "It's time you learned some respect for those who're better than you!"

"Older, yes, better, no," I replied with a mocking grin. I remembered what Haldir had taught me about fighting back in Lorien- _"When you become angry, you lose control, like a leaf in a strong wind. If you stay calm as a fully grown tree, you will still be able to think."_ Cheesy, but accurate. If my theory was right, I'd gain an advantage, which I desperately needed. If I was wrong, there were going to be some very happy carnivorous fish in that lake and some very happy people on the shore.

I was right. Sue Two lunged for me with her ridiculous katana and tried to stab me. What she forgot in her anger was that her particular katana was even worse at stabbing than my sword. So I twisted my sword around and hacked off the blade as if it were aluminum. Miracle: I actually did it.Sue Two stared at what remained- the hilt- in shock. Then Sue One tried to get me with her heavier blade. This was a bit trickier, since I couldn't cut her blade in half. I tried to think of something else. Then another Haldir phrase came to mind. _"There are other forces besides you and your foe in a battle. The trees may choose to trip you or your rival; the water may sweep away you or the enemy..."_ Okay, he was really talking about respecting the environment in a battle situation so it wouldn't turn on you, but hey, it applied. So I figured that I had to force the Sues into the water so they and their ridiculous skirts would be dragged over the falls of Rauros. (Un)fortunately, behind Sue One, Sue Two was running for the river. I prayed that the current would hate her as much as I did, and I swung towards Sue One.

As expected, she blocked it. But in doing so, she had to take a small step back. One step closer to the water. A female scream came from over where the falls dropped, so I smiled in satisfaction. One down, one to go. Just me and HER.

SHE tried to stab me, but I knocked her blade out of the way. In order to regain her balance from such a forceful swing, SHE stepped back again. There were about three steps to go before her boots would get wet. There were some blows and parries exchanged there, neither moving. I then swiped atHER with my fingernails, tearing off that stupid talisman and necklace, forcingHER to take a giant step back. But I felt my berserker blood rising- yes, I was three quarters berserker before this evil species-changing thing- and I let out a maniacal laugh.

That scared HER- badly. She fairly ran backwards; the water was nearly halfway up her calf, but seeing as her skirts were ground length and very heavy, SHE was already struggling not to lean with the current. I ran towards her, SHE ran back into knee-high water. "It's over, wench, admit it," I snarled. By that time, I was no longer a sentient being. I wanted revenge for taking my whole previous life; I wanted to rend the flesh that had tried to rend mine.

SHE said, trying to be brave, "Not yet." ShHE then went farther into the water, sword forgotten, until it was up to her waist. SHE then tried to swim across the rest of the way. SHE played right into my hands. In the middle, the current got so strong that it simply picked upHER by the skirts and pulledHER over to the falls. Right before the drop, her head bobbed up- just enough to see her eyes narrowed at me in utter hatred- and thenSHE was gone.

I was so relieved- I had managed to survive the Sues. Then I felt another sort of draining- my energy levels had totally been used up in controlling that bloodlust that my berserker blood held. I knelt in the freezing water, not caring about the biting cold water. Then I felt someone tap my shoulder- Frodo. He'd watched everything. I think he wanted to ask what just happened, but I shoved the talisman into his hands and said, "Frodo, when you go to Mount Doom to toss the Ring in, chuck this in too. It's just as dangerous." Frodo simply nodded and went across the river/lake.

I just stayed there for a very long time looking at the water, trying to get myself under control. I would have fallen face-forward into theriver since I was so tired, but finally someone came up and grabbed my shoulder and dragged me to shore. More Haldir quotes ran through my head: _"The aftermath may be as bad as the battle."_ So I listened to that dude, give me a break. Anyways, when I was dragged back to the bank, I finally realized that the water was _freezing cold_. Not just your ordinary unheated- swimming- pool cold, your freshwater- spring cold. Well, duh, it was February after all; spring doesn't really start until March at the earliest. I sat shivering in a little huddle on the shore. Then I looked up. Everyone who was supposed to be here was here- Legolas, Gimli, and Aragorn. Only I wasn't supposed to _know_ what happened to the others. "Where is Lord Boromir? And the Halflings?"

Aragorn looked uncomfortable, Gimli shifted his weight, and Legolas just stood straighter. I answered for them. "Lord Boromir is dead."

What remained of the Fellowship nodded in their own manner. I didn't notice it before, but elves nod by moving their head up or down once, kind of like body language reticence. Aragorn then said, "The two younger hobbits have been taken by orcs." It was only then that I noticed that the bank was peppered with short orc arrows.

I decided to play the idiot once more. "And the Ringbearer and Samwise?"

"They must have crossed the river during your battle, on the far side. You did not notice them?"

I snorted. "Well, in case you didn't notice, I was trying to stay alive while fighting a magically enhanced person who is at least five years older than me and has had a lot more practice. That takes concentration."

And thus started the lectures, mainly from Legolas since Aragorn and Gimli went to go get Boromir's body. You should stay alert of your surroundings, yada yada, if they had been orcs you would have been dead, yada yada, are you actually listening, yada yada. I dozed off after the first hour, but this was very anti-Legolas, to be verbose. Okay, so I'm not being fair. But it was really long!

At that point, Aragorn and Gimli returned with the corpse. I had never seen one before, so this was a big, huge, major shock. He looked like a rather unfortunate pincushion at first glance. But when you looked closer, you could see that he was very pale, and his black hair contrasted horribly. I couldn't look after that and went promptly into the woods to throw up and cry. Okay, I had known Boromir would die. But he had been like the older brother I never had. You can't blame me.

When I got back, one of the boats was missing, and so was the body. Aragorn and the others were emptying bags and choosing all of the really necessary stuff to go in the four small knapsacks that they had chosen. Then everything was explained to me- that we were going in search of orcs. I also got my new instructions. If I saw anything, anything at all, that looked like an orc, I was to give a signal, and retreat. However, if we were close to a town, I was to run as fast as my new legs could carry me and hide there. So now we go on that famous 45 league trek that takes four days. I hope I can survive this, considering how long I've known how to run with these new legs. Valar save my broken body!

* * *

_Reviewer responses:_

_**Cainwen the Warrior:** It's a long story, why Arien ended up with those two THINGS. It was a return favor-thing. And she has regretted it._

_**Tera Earth:** Well, my first thought on the ear-thing was that they were human-shaped, then I read The Lost Road and Other Writings, where they said something about ears being leaf-shaped. So in desperation I went on a walk to collect every shape of leaf I could find. For some reason, a maple leaf was on the pavement, so I picked it up. I found some ear-shaped leaves- water oaks- so that's what I gave Legolas. And I was desperate for something NOT like Peter Jackson elves. So the Maple-Leaf ear was born. And I think the Sues will indeed be sleeping with fishes- for a while anyways._

_**Anonymous Reader:** If you read Appendix F, you find out that all elves in any locationEXCEPT those related to Galadriel and Glorfindel have black hair. They also all (no exceptions) have grey eyes._

_**lior-a:** I think Haldir deserves a bit more attention; don't you? Everybody thinks of him as "that elf that dies," but he's way more important than that._

_**Laer:** The Fellowship would actually be blinded by ugliness if the Sues looked like they really do. Oh, and chocolate milk? That sounds good; I'll take glass._

_**Elven Bunny:** There's a banquet scene in Imladris where Elrond, Glorfindel,and Gandalf stand up together. Elrond, who has a little human blood, is significantly taller than Glorfindel. And there's some mention of height somewhere else, but I've got to find it._

_**KurleyHawk2:** Why thank you! Have a cookie. Sugar or chocolate chip?_

_Thank you reviewers! For my other readers, please review if you have anything to say! I even respond to anonymous reviews!_


	7. The Odds Improve Considerably

Chapter Seven: The Odds Improve Considerably

* * *

**February 27**

I have figured out that the only reason that I will be able to survive this is my wonderful species change. How else would I be able to keep up with a six-foot-four tall Aragorn? And I have discovered the wonderful Elven trait of sleeping while running. Mind you, it can't be done in a full run, but it's fairly easy at a jog. And I love this new endurance thing! Before I came here, I could barely run at all. Not because I was fat (I was on the high side of normal), but I had exercise-induced asthma- the sort where you get an asthma attack in the middle of a fifty butterfly (that particular experience was due to the insistence of my mother who refused to believe that her darling firstborn daughter had breathing problems). However, it seems that it is impossible for Elves to get asthma, so I'm fine now.

**February 28**

Aragorn has insisted we rest. However, the fact that he and Gimli fell asleep right away did not get me out of an archery lesson. Apparently Legolas thinks that any time we are stationary is an appropriate time for a lesson. At this point, I am still terrible. In fact, I actually think I've gotten worse.

Oh, and earlier today we found Pippin's brooch off the path a little. The others are feeling a lot better now about the hobbits. I bet they've met Fangorn by now, if I remember things correctly.

After the archery lesson (it was short; probably so that Aragorn wouldn't find out that we were practicing in the middle of the night) I sat down on a flat rock and thought. It's times like this when I really miss Boromir. I kind of identified with him; I'm just trying to do my best to keep things running the way they should, only things tend to run faster than I can keep up. He didn't deserve to die. Maybe if the Sues hadn't stopped me from following them, he'd still be alive.

I don't even want to think about that. It makes me cry.

**February 29**

Nothing interesting. My hair is being evil and trying to come out of its braid, but that's about it. I WANT TO CUT IT OFF! Okay, rant over.

**February 30**

Oh wow. We met the Rohirrim today. And I can totally sympathize with my old friend Mhera for loving Éomer, because he is Hot, with a capital H. However, as soon as Legolas spotted them, I was hustled into a little cave of rocks, where I pretended to be a little stone- preferably of the sedimentary variety. I was able to catch a glimpse between the threads of the cloak. Wow, my new eyes really work! I heard all of it too, but it was pretty boring on the whole. Not that it wasn't enlightening for the three, but I knew it already. Unfortunately, I had to look sad and upset about Merry and Pippin, which is hard since I know that they are safe in Fangorn with Treebeard right now. I really, _really_ tried though.

--

Oh, and great news! I officially stink at archery. We've practiced every night while Aragorn and Gimli were resting, and I know for a fact I've gotten worse. Judging from Legolas' expression last night, his patience is wearing very, very, thin.

**March 1**

Gandalf's back!

We had gotten the horses from the Rohirrim, all three. I took the brown one that reminded me of the horse that had taken me to Rivendell. This one was almost as nice, and figured out early that I didn't really know how to ride, so it simply followed the others.

Then that night, we stopped at the edge of Fangorn. Legolas got out his bow, but Aragorn cleared his throat, saying NO ARCHERY LESSONS as clearly as can be. Legolas got the message and put it up, but not without a pause where he gave a meaningful look in Aragorn's direction. Then we went to sleep, or sort of, since I haven't been able to figure out how to go to sleep normally since the sleeping-while-running revelation. But the horses then saw something moving in the trees, and ran after it. I couldn't see it since I have yet to figure out night vision; I close my eyes and echo-locate when I can. Well, not really, but I navigate by sound after dark. It's surprisingly easy, when the trees creak at all hours and the Three Hunters are constantly breathing.

We decided that it was not smart to travel in the middle of the night in Fangorn so we rested until morning. Evidently our archery-fascist was too tired to insist on a lesson. Okay, so I'm not being really fair to Legolas, since all he wants to do is help. I would just appreciate it if he realized I'd never figure archery out. At least he's admitted that I'm okay with my sword. But when we all woke up, it was another day of forced march. Then we met up with Gandalf. I'll spare you most of the endless talk, but I did get a message from Galadriel. So it wasn't in rhyme like Aragorn's and Legolas', but a message nonetheless. She said, and I quote: _Your fate is not in the stars, but of your own choosing, until you hear the call to leave_. That was not quite as straightforward as Gimli's, but I can figure it out. Sometime.

**March 2**

Oh. My. Goodness. My luck has finally improved.

We got to ride again, and this time my horse had a bit more mind of its own (note to self: find out gender of horse) but it stopped every time Shadowfax looked back at it. When we arrived at Edoras, it reminded me of the pictures of inland Viking settlements that I'd seen. We got to the door really early in the morning, and, as expected, we were stopped at the door. But what I didn't expect was for the door warden to not give me a second glance. I figured that the _Elves_ would react less to see a girl traveling with nine men (well, nine adult males) since historically they have been more willing to allow women to fight. But the door warden acted as if it was ordinary for a girl to travel without another woman or at least a brother or cousin (from appearance I was related to none of them, as I still had brown eyes) as a chaperone. We had to leave all our weapons at the door, but I still kept my dagger in my boot. I might have had to use it inside, and even if I didn't, I didn't want anyone to know I had it. In case the Sues were in disguise somewhere.

When we went in, Legolas motioned for me to drop back, in case something bad happened so I could get out. So I dropped back. Species change or no, I was still a wimp. Then I looked forward.

King Théoden looked like a blonde version of Boromir's corpse. I know that's not the nicest thing to say, but it is the only thing I can really compare it to. Then I looked at the _thing_ at Théoden's feet. It looked even more like a walking corpse, pale and sickly. Then I looked behind the throne, where two women stood. One was blonde (she had to be Éowyn) and another had jet black hair. Somehow she looked familiar. I kept staring at her throughout the whole exorcism scene. She was in a like condition, staring at me. Though the person had blue-black goblet ringlets and was wearing something that looked as if it might have had a skirt attached to it at some point, I knew who it was. Neither of us noticed when Éowyn rushed to support her uncle; we kept staring at each other. Finally the hall was clearing, and we walked towards one another, stopping about five feet from each other. "M...m...mhera?" I tried to say her name.

She nodded, half in shock. Éowyn forgotten, we stared at each other for another few seconds when she suddenly screamed my name and nearly cut off my airway with a very tight hug. "Umm... Mhera?" I gasped.

"Oops," she said and backed off. Man, it was so wonderful to see someone who I actually knew from back home. Together, we made up the two most- obsessed- with- Lord- of- the-Rings- and- tearing- down- Sues- and- their- writers people in our school. That is, before I managed to get myself sucked into another dimension. "Sorry. It's just so good to see you!"

"I know," I replied, grinning. "So you're here."

"Yeah. One sec. Since that worm is on the ground, I have a strong urge to impale him on something sharp."

"Mhera!" said Éowyn, shocked. She had apparently made her way over while we were staring. "It wouldn't be proper." I could have sworn she muttered under her breath, "Uncle has to do it, not us."

"Can I at least _maim_ him?" Mhera pleaded.

"No." This time it was me.

"Indian burns?"

"Well, maybe." But we turned around to see that he had fled.

"Darn. So, want me to show you around?" she grinned at me. Mhera was evidently having the time of her life.

Anyways, we started walking around the various hallways of the hall (man, that sounds weird) when Mhera asked, "So… how'd you get here?"

"I was traveling with the Fellowship."

She wrinkled her nose. "That's so... Sue-ish."

I was momentarily stunned; apparently she had no idea what she had become. "Umm... Mhera, we _are_ Sues."

I had just enough time to cover her mouth before she yelled to high heaven. As soon as she was partially recovered, I let her talk. "You have got to be kidding me," she yelled. "How could _we_, Sue-haters, be the enemy?"

"It's true," I insisted. I then thought of a way to prove it. "Look, Mhera, sing something random."

She looked at me as if I had just gone off the deep end. "You want me to sing?"

"Yes." Mhera had been famous for having a voice that roughly resembled in range and vocal quality the voice of a tenor with bronchitis. If I was right, we'd both be in for a shock.

She shrugged. "Okay." She took a deep breath and sang a note- a clear, high, soprano note. Clapping her hand over her mouth to silence it, her eyes nearly popped out of her head. "Oh d." I winced at the Black Speech curse word; I hadn't remembered the effect it had on Elven ears. And then, for the first time after saying that word (which was a common occurrence), I heard her cough like crazy. "Did I just swallow some rocks?" she rasped.

I was staring at her, trying to get an idea of what happened. Then I knew. "Mhera, I'm sorry about this," I said, and pushed her into a closet we were passing and held the door shut. A few seconds later, she was screaming.

As soon as she quieted down, I opened the door slowly. She was sitting on the ground in a very un-Sueish manner (but very Mhera-ish) with a mop leaning against her back and a bucket stuck on her foot. She had the saddest look on her face. "Runa, I think I'm going to cry," she said, lower lip trembling. That was the first time anyone had used my real name here; it was really touching.

"I'm sorry, Mhera," I said with feeling. So I had been right- we had both changed species. The door was closed enough and the hall dark enough for me to see the faint glow on her skin. I helped her out of the closet, pulled the bucket off her foot, and managed to put the closet into some sort of order. Then Mhera started laughing and crying at the same time.

"It's just... that we used to... think about this... you know? Changing species... and all that? I... can't believe I actually... wanted to change. It's so... odd."

All I could do was pat her back and wait for her to stop crying.

**Later that day...**

I used to think at nights that having Mhera here would be a great help. She, like I, knows the books front- to- back. She, like I, managed to read through The Silmarillion without killing herself with boredom. She, like I, had down the concept of life pre-tooth-bleach down pat. But what I didn't think of was the omniscience issue.

This afternoon before supper, she was saying in a sing-song voice the words of a poem from The Hobbit, that one about the Lonely Mountain. She'd been afraid to do any real singing since the soprano event.

As soon as she finished, Gimli asked suspiciously, "Where'd yeh learn that?"

Mhera shrugged. "Oh, I looked at it in the library." Then she turned really white. She'd given the game away.

"Library?" Aragorn sounded interested.

I decided to interrupt to save the situation. "Yes. Her uncle had catalogued some songs that regarded the area around the Lake in Dale. That's where I met Mhera; she lived with her uncle there."

Mhera hastily agreed. Oh, man are we going to have to be careful.

**Even later...**

Théoden's decided that they must flee to Helm's Deep. Gandalf thinks that is foolish, but if he proposes that they defend Edoras, he may be entering his second infancy. I mean, the entire city is highly flammable. One torch and BOOM. No more Edoras.

At dinner today, Legolas insisted that I have a little ale. His reasoning was that the water was not safe to drink, and they did make ale that wasn't strong, despite many stories I've read on the internet. Besides, I needed to get used to it. But I didn't think I would feel drowsy after one sip...

I think I'll go lie down now.

* * *

_Ooh, a cliffie! Okay, so the cliff's about three feet down, but it's at least_ something_ of a cliffie, right?_

_Reviewer Responses:_

_**angeltread:** you are getting that feeling because you know that Sues are similar to roaches: you cannot, however much you try, get rid of them. My apologies to roaches, by the way, for the necessary comparison._

_**Laer:** I'm pretty sure Sues can hold their breaths for a very long time. But I don't think they'll like the rocks at the bottom of the falls one bit. Excuse me for laughing maniacly. Muahahaha!_

_**Cainwen the Warrior: **What? You've figured out my secret of updating? Darn! Oh, and if you really hurry, you could probably catch Boromir at Mandos before he goes to the world beyond to tell him about the Sues. I think he'll be grateful._

_**kd7sov:** It is possible that someone else could take her home. But at this point, do you think she wants to? You'll just have to wait and see. Thank you for a balanced review._

_**FallenTruth:** Arien would not be happy AT ALL. And unfortunately for my protagonist, a mad Arien is not fun to deal with._

_**Legolas' Girl 9:** Thanks for the review!_

_

* * *

__Sigh. Do I really have to do this?_

_Of course I do._

_(gets down on knees) Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease comment! Please leave reviews! If you have time, please tell me what I can do better!_


	8. The Plan

Chapter Eight: The Plan

* * *

**March 3**

Darn it, they left me! But oh, are they going to pay.

When I woke up I realized I was actually lying on a bed. I hadn't slept lying down since I managed the walk from my convalescent quarters to the hallway; I mostly just leaned against any surface roughly perpendicular to the ground, or while walking when we were traveling. Then I tried to remember what had happened the night before- the dizzy feeling. I then looked at the table beside the mattress. There was a note:

_Arë,_

_We have gone to Helm's Deep. I apologize for having to drug you, but we could not risk you coming. Remember to practice _both_ weapons every day; the Lady will inform us if you do not._

It was unsigned, but it didn't matter. It was pretty obvious that Legolas wrote it; even Aragorn thought I should work on just one weapon at a time. So I decided to get it over with- the practice, I mean. And while I was at it, devise a means of revenge. Oooh, it was going to be good.

I picked up my archery equipment (someone, probably Legolas, wanting me to have no excuses for not getting better, had moved them where I could not miss them) and headed for the great hall, trying to find someone who would know where I should go to practice.

I was not the only one there. Mhera was there too, sitting with Éowyn on a bench. "Where are you going?" Mhera asked.

"Archery practice," I said glumly. "Under threat of drill twice a day until the end of eternity."

Mhera laughed. No compassion from the cynical. "Glad I'm not you."

I snorted. "You'd better be. I've had to put up with this since Lórien!"

Mhera shrugged. "I've only been in Arda a month."

I looked at Mhera. "You have been in Edoras for over a month and it is not a pile of rubble yet? That's a miracle."

"Har har," she replied, eyes narrowed. "For your information, I couldn't have torn this city down if I had tried. This hellish head of hair has been preventing me from doing nearly everything. When I try to _walk_ it tries to strangle me." I then looked carefully at her hair. It was blue-black and had trademark Sue ringlets falling down her back. That struck me as odd, because it had been a Mhera taboo to leave her hair down in any way, shape, or form, and here it was, hanging loose (which looked good on her, all the same; a ponytail wouldn't work). I was surprised she hadn't already hacked off the bottom two feet. And that was when the idea hit me.

"Éowyn," I said, taking the dagger out of my boot. "Can you cut my hair? Chin length, please."

She was in shock a few seconds before replying, "But that's nearly criminal! Just look at your hair, it's so beautiful!"

"And a pain. Look, if you don't do it I'll have to ask Mhera to cut it, which will leave you having to explain to everyone how I got decapitated once they get back. I'd do it from a very long distance." Ignoring Mhera's (loud) protests, I sighed. "Look, Éowyn. It's just hair; it can grow back." But I won't let it, I added to myself.

"All right," she gave in. "But are you sure you don't want it at least shoulder length?"

"Chin," I replied firmly. I turned around and loosed the thick piece of yarn that had held my hair into its rope of a braid. When the sound of hair breaking reached my ears, I literally felt a weight lift from my shoulders. One Sue characteristic down, millions to go. After a minute, I shook my head. It felt marvelously light. I turned around to Éowyn, who was holding the dagger in one hand and about two feet of my hair in the other, staring at it in shock. "Never seen hair before?" I joked.

"Not this much off a person," she said, shaking her head.

"Well, you can burn it then. It won't smell nice, but the smell won't last long." I took my dagger and turned to Mhera. "Want to go out and watch me make a fool of myself trying to shoot?"

"Sure," she grinned.

--

Aragorn was so, so right when he said that archery may not be my thing. I made an absolute fool of myself. We actually tried to see whether I would hit the target more times if I aimed for one of the outer rings of the target instead of the inner circle- I hit the central target _more times_ when I didn't actually try to hit it. I would have broken the bow over my knee if Mhera hadn't grabbed it before I could try. After my patience was thinner than tissue paper, I snapped at Mhera, "When they come back, it is _your_ duty to tell them that I tried to practice, and I went through the _entire_ positioning routine and I still can't shoot to save a life. And you can tell them that I am more likely to hit an enemy if I aim for a friend."

Mhera sighed. "Come here, Runa." She still insisted on using my real name, and the familiarity of it compelled me to do as she said. When I stood in front of her, she took both my shoulders. "Runa, you can't expect to be able to do everything. I know you've tried in the past, but it doesn't work. Just accept that you will never be able to shoot straight."

"I can't!" I shouted, fighting back tears. "They all expect me to improve! Maybe I should just go north and find those snow-people that were mentioned somewhere in the books. They're nomads, right? Then they won't be able to find me and make me practice something I can't do."

Mhera shook her head. "You're hopeless. Just give it up. Repeat after me: I will not stress over this."

"I will not stress over this," I repeated dutifully. Then hysteria rose again. "But what if..."

"No 'what if's'," said Mhera sternly. "If I hear you stressing over this one more time I will hit you over the head. Understand?" I nodded; when Mhera threatens to do something, she usually does it. Mhera continued. "Now, you've practiced today, and I can swear to it. In fact, you have been practicing from midmorning to late afternoon." I looked up to the sky. Sure enough, the sun was about three hours from setting.

"You're right. Let's go find Éowyn."

Once we found her , Éowyn took us of the "younger crowd" over to the kitchens for dinner. She hacked off a piece of bread and smoked ham, folding it in a napkin. Mhera stared at her. "Haven't you ever made a sandwich?"

Éowyn looked confused. Mhera and I exchanged glances; every four year old can make a sandwich! So we started on our instruction- Mhera violently demonstrating as we both recited, "You take a slice of bread, put the meat and cheese on it, and put another slice of bread on the top, and you eat it!"

Éowyn simply stared. I looked at Mhera. "Did we just..."

"I think we did," she interrupted, looking stricken.

"Not again!" we said in unison, banging our heads together.

Cruel world, kill us now. We have broken canon again.

**March 4**

Mhera and I have finally figured out why I am so terrible at archery. I was practicing, as instructed, when I missed for the twentieth time in a row. I was absolutely irate and went to pull the arrow out of the fence post that the arrow had miraculously found, tugging at it with my left hand.

"Wait!" Mhera said. I stopped. It's always best to do what Mhera tells you; you have no idea what sort of horror she will unleash if you don't.

"You're left-handed?" she asked. Well _duh_. Before I could snap, she said, "I bet that you've been shooting right-handed. You know you can't even use scissors right-handed. Try doing what you've normally been doing, but switch the arms."

So I tried it several times. At first, it felt really awkward, and I couldn't get anything. But then something _clicked_. The stance started to feel natural. And then...

"You got it!" I stared at the target. There the arrow was. Right. Smack. Dab. In. The. Center. I could barely control my glee.

Then I tried again. And again. And again. I didn't hit the central ring of the target every time, but that number was a thimbleful compared to my ocean of on-target shots. I've finally gotten better!

**March 5**

I've improved more today, and Mhera had to drag me off the field once it got dark, yelling that I had been there all day and needed to eat something before I went anorexic. I think all of Meduseld (that was still there) must have heard her, but that's beside the point.

Once we got inside, Mhera shoved a piece of bread in my face and said "Eat!" in her loudest non-yelling voice. I had no choice but to obey- at least, at first.

"So," I said, while chewing, "how exactly did you get here, Mhera? It's time to 'fess up."  
Mhera grimaced. "I shall tell you," offered Éowyn, earning her a patent-glare from Mhera. Apparently, Éowyn didn't notice, so she continued. "She came riding up to the hall one day last month on a strange horse when it was pouring down rain, yelling at someone to tell her where and when she was, which does not make sense-"

"To you maybe..." muttered Mhera.

Éowyn glared at Mhera for interrupting. The style showed that she had learned from the master, but it lacked a certain _je nai sais quoi_. "An-y-ways," annunciated Éowyn

, "one of the guards thought she was trying to attack the capital and knocked her unconscious. To their utter embarrassment, then they found out she was an unarmed woman just out of girlhood, so they took her to me for judgment. I, of course, denounced them for the idiots they were, and insisted that we get her warm and dry as quickly as possible. So we changed her out of the wet and torn clothes she was wearing, and put her in a spare dress." Mhera glared at Éowyn again; it was another taboo of Mhera's to wear any skirt, dress, of anything of the like. This time, Éowyn noticed the glare. "You were soaking wet, Mhera. You could have fallen ill and died if we did not put you in dry clothing. Anyway, once she woke she immediately demanded a pair of pants and a knife. The maid sitting attendance on her did as she said- apparently Mhera is hard to disobey. I came back with the maid, to see this strange person. Anyways, " Éowyn's eyes twinkled, "she immediately pulled on the pants and cut the skirt off above her knees, saying, 'Finally,' or something of the like. She has been amazing the city with her antics ever since."

"That's Mhera," I said, grinning at the person in question. Judging from the look she gave me, I have very little time left to live, despite immortality. In fact, she uttered a very nasty curse, in Quenya this time, since she hadn't fully recovered from the Black Speech episode. "That's also Mhera," I said to Éowyn. "She has developed a very large choice vocabulary."

Éowyn smiled slightly. "That is what makes her interesting."

**Later**

The company is riding through Edoras, and then we are going to ride with them to Dunharrow. The messenger arrived this morning, calling out that Rohan is going to war to help Gondor. Éowyn simply nodded, I bit my lower lip (I know, it's a bad habit) and Mhera grinned. As soon as the messenger left us alone, Mhera pulled both of us into the room we share (not like that, sickos, we're just roommates) and smiled smugly. She announced, "Girls, I have a Plan," so that you could almost hear the capital letter.

I winced, knowing what was coming. Poor Éowyn, however, had no experience with this type of demon. "What do you mean, a Plan?" she asked, also making the capital letter sound.

"Trust me," I interrupted, "you do not want to know."

Mhera gave me one of her patent-glares until I cowered and then continued, "We have just as much right to earn renown as those _men_ do. Just because of a few...differences we are banished from the battlefield. Well, it won't happen. We're going out there, and I can tell you exactly how."

Her plan was drowned out by my mental moans.

* * *

_Reviewer responses:_

_**Huggins Legacy:** Research for me is like a reflex. It comes from having two teachers as parents. And finally someone who agrees with me about the maple leaf ears!_

_**Angeltread: **Pretty soon we're going to have roach lawyers at our doors, suing us for slander. They won't get anything from me, though: my net worth is something like four hundred dollars._

_**Fallen Truth:** Yes, laugh all you want. But pretty soon Mhera's going to drop a torch and POOF._

_**Laer:** Umm... don't tell Mhera you thought she was a Sue- she's a real person (note screen name). You'll be dead within the week with her calling card on your chest where your heart was carved out with a wodden spoon._

_**Crecy:** You liked my writing style? Really? I hope you get cookies! And if you like my style, you should read The Princess Diaries series._

_**Legolas's Girl 9:** Exercize induced asthma is not uncommon. I know three other people with it._

_**Lior-a:** You want to know my age? Check the homepage under Runa. Though it actually doesn't matter._

_**Nasuada Moon:** Oh my goodness! Do you like the Inheritance trilogy (the two that are out, that is)? I liked the first one, but I thought Eldest was rather sappy.__

* * *

_

Thank you to those who review. I laugh at those who do not, for they are fools! Muahaha!

Pardon me while I go take my medicine.


	9. The Road Goes Ever On and On

**March 6**

So now we're on the road- again, and Mhera is plaguing me about riding the horse I'm walking next to.

"Mhera Creed, if you even think about trying to get me on a horse, I swear I will murder you."

She just laughed it off. "You're going to have to ride to Gondor. You need the practice."

"Har har," I replied. "For your information, I just relearned how to walk a little more than a month ago. I would like to keep in practice with _walking_."

So ten minutes later, here I am.

On the back of the horse.

Mhera went way below the belt on this one. She went running to Éowyn they both practically shoved me on that horse. Ooh, I am going to kill that girl- turned- Elf.

Wait a second, who's that sitting on that rock? She looks familiar.

Oh, great.

--

Back when life was normal and rather nice to a wimp like me, some friends and I made up some Lord of the Rings themed comics. The only problem was that only one of our number could draw comics to save our lives. So we talked a lot about "If we could draw," and we'd describe a scene. One of our common characters was Hope the Hitchhiking Hobbit based off of, you guessed it, a girl named Hope, who would turn up in random places to annoy the Fellowship to death and poke Saruman and scream "Dooku!" in his ear. How she ever got _tall_ enough to yell in his ear we never figured out, but it was a funny mental picture all the same.

Unfortunately, she's here. Hope the Hitchhiking Hobbit is here to terrorize Middle earth and maybe help Mhera tear down the Golden Hall.

We named our fictional hobbit after Hope because she looked as if she could actually be a hobbit. She was on the short side, had big hairy feet, and had the typical hobbit life-outlook. Plus she obsessed over Merry. So Hope isn't much changed. She's a little shorter then she was, and plumper proportionately. And she's wearing a dress. I don't think I ever saw Hope in a dress. And she had the biggest, hobbit-y smile ever when we came even with her. "Hey, guys!" she said.

"H...h... _Hope_?" I stuttered.

"How did you get here?" asked Mhera, jaw about three inches below its normal position.

"I hitchhiked," she said simply. "I landed in Middle-earth last December. From there I got a ride from someone from Hobbiton to Coombe, and one from Bree to Rivendell. From there I went through the pass, ran into some nice people in Rohan, and ended up here on the road to Dunharrow. So, do you have any food?"

**March 9**

We finally came to Dunharrow, and part two of the Plan has been set into motion. The first part, of course, was to get us out of Edoras with armor and weapons, and figure out a way to disguise the feminine look. I will admit, with my old body, it would have been impossible. But I have less of a figure now, and judging from the trials we did with the armor in Éowyn

's room, I can pass as a guy, so long as I don't talk like I normally do. That's going to be the tough part; I could talk the hind leg off a mule.

Now it's my job to look for the Fellowship; or what's left of it, anyway. I have a feeling that certain people will be shocked when they see my hair. And yes, that's the best revenge I could think of: doing something completely unexpected. I'm really bad at getting revenge, I know!

--

_Shock_ was an understatement. Even our composed Elf stuttered. Gimli recovered first and actually laughed, saying, "So this is what we get when weh leave yeh to yer own devices." But Legolas just stared, eyebrows nearly part of the hairline and mouth opening and closing like a fish. I have my revenge for them leaving me and making me practice archery! Take that, Elf boy!

Uh oh, he's got that look in his eye. The one that says, _we're going to see whether you practiced or not._

--

How Legolas managed to find an unpopulated area around here is beyond my belief, but he did. Then he found a dead tree, and etched the circle in the middle, larger than it was the first time I tried, and gave me his little spiel on Aim. He has yet to find a time when the lecture on Aim is not appropriate; the days we could not practice, he would recite it on the run. Once again, I don't blame him; he's trying to help.

...now try," he finished, breaking me out of my reverie counting leaves, and handed me the bow in my wrong hand.

"Oh," I said, and switched hands, then placed my feet, aimed, and like it had been these days past, I hit the center.

Legolas, however, did not notice the feat, since he was slapping his forehead. Yes, Elf, I _am_ left-handed. I have been writing in a journal nearly every day for the past two seasons (by Elven reckoning) and he _just noticed_ that I cannot use my right hand to even pick up a spoon. Kudos for him. To prevent him from losing more brain cells, I interrupted, "Was my aim true?"

He shook his head to clear it. "Yes, it was. But why, by Melkor's chains, did you not tell me you were _hagram_?"

I stared. "Well, I didn't know that was the term. And furthermore, how was I supposed to know that the way you were teaching me was for the 'north handed' since I had not picked up a bow until Lórien?"

He shrugged and sighed. "That is true. We could have saved a lot of time."

I then looked up to the position of the sun. According to Mhera's and my "foresight," we should be getting ready now, so I excused myself and ran off for our ritual of dirtying and chest binding and overall masculine-ifying.

--

Wow, a lot has happened today, but I just had to squeal on this one. Mhera was "a little late" for our metamorphosis. Speaking of which, Éowyn found an extra set of armor that will fit Hope, but that's beside the point. Anyways, I came to "the ladies' tent" as it is known, to find only Éowyn, who was giggling hysterically. I looked at her weird, and she simply gasped out, "Its... Mhera... and... Éomer!" and started to giggle again. Groaning at the fact that I was surrounded by incurably silly people, I went off in search of the two missing members of our group, dragging the giggling Éowyn with me.

It didn't take long to find Hope. She and Merry had found the mess and were steadily destroying it. I gave her a look and a message that we were preparing to leave, but conveniently left out our destination. She (reluctantly) came with us, and we went off to spy on- I mean _find_- Mhera. And we did.

She was sitting next to Éomer by a fire, probably as demure as I have ever seen her (I can't believe I am using that word to describe her, but I am), and she was _blushing_. Ai Varda, this is the first indication that I've ever had that she was humanoid. He said something, she laughed, they talked a while, and he laughed. It was all a very pretty picture, especially in the firelight, but we had plans to attend to. However, I was smart enough to know not to interrupt her, and not even Hope could stand her wrath. So that left one other.

"Éowyn, would you go get her? I don't think she'll listen to me."

"What? And ruin one of my brother's few moments of happiness? Not on my life." _Awiergain ge_, Éowyn, sisterly affection is all well and good, but we have a plan here! So we sat there, and thought.

Hope finally spoke, through mouthfuls of a piece of bread she managed to grab as she left. "Why don't we... just go back to the... tent? She knows... she's gotta come."

So that's what we did- it was all we could do.

And now she's finally showed up. We had agreed not to say anything to Mhera until we got to Minas Tirith, when she wouldn't have a sword within arm's reach of her. Friend though she is, she can get violent when annoyed. Distance is recommended.

Oh great, chest-binding now.

**March 10**

Yay, one day complete and we have yet to be discovered. We have been riding near the back, where no one can hear Mhera giving me instructions. But apparently the Elf-blood is helping me learn really quickly, since I have yet to fall! Go me!

On a more sober note, hiding our two "little ones" has proved tricky. We had long ago decided on the tactic of Lying Low, but that is more difficult than most would believe. We are in an army camp with _six thousand_ men in the area! But we're managing.

We continue to hide. And in my case, suppress Sue-ish thoughts. Why do some of these guys have to look so _good?_

**March 11**

I am seriously thinking that Éowyn or Mhera bribed Elfhelm (the Marshal whose éored we are pretending to belong to) to ignore us. Maybe he and Éowyn are old friends and he's doing this as a favor, but we are hardly inconspicuous.

**March 12**

We are camping near a mountain, and I can see a forest ahead. Nothing more interesting to say. Other than a pen broke. I'm down to one, but I hadn't started using it until today.

**March 13**

We reached the forest and are riding through it. It isn't that interesting, but it is far less monotonous than the plains.

**March 14**

Same old same old. But it won't be boring tomorrow. The battle is tomorrow, and hopefully I'll survive.

* * *

_Reviewer responses:_

_**Cainwen the Warrior:** You want to know how my main character got turned into an elf?  
Well, I'll tell you.  
I don't know.  
_Why_ she changed species is another matter entirely. Firstly, 'cause she wouldn't survive past Rauros being outnumbered and outsensed. Secondly, I wanted to show that it isn't easy to switch species. I'm sick of stories where girls switch and all of a sudden they turn into these graceful twits. I wanted to show what it was _probably_ like._

_**Crecy:** I can't wait either. I actually spent two days looking in my Tolkien reference books to find the word for 'left-handed.' All I really found was something about Maedhros Feanorion being more skilled with a sword after his brother cut off his right hand._

_**Laer:** You might want to hide your forks, knitting needles, and pencils as well._

_**angeltread:** Trying to do something right-handed when you are a lefty is a pain. I actually wrote an essay about how it's important for left-handers to have proper school equipment, especially desks. Did you know that writing in a desk not designed for your hand preference can cause back trauma and chronic pain? Oh, and I don't think your aunt's letter opener would be sharp enough to cut your hair. Try seeing if you could donate it to Locks of Love. Or is it Locks for Love? Grr... can't remember._

_**FallenTruth:** If you like Mhera, her side of the story's going to be published soon._

* * *

R! E! V! I! E! W!  
What's that spell?  
Review!

There's a reason I'm not a cheerleader, other than my dislike for impersonating Barbie.


	10. Demise

Chapter Ten: Demise

**March 17**

I lived. I didn't think I would, but I did.

Of course, I didn't escape without a scratch. I got a shallow cut on my left arm from an orc sword, and too many bruises to count. Hope got a gash on her forehead and one on her shoulder, but after that had the sense to hide between the front legs of a dead oiliphaunt so she didn't get killed. And Mhera, well, she's a different story.

After the battle, I went away to find some water in which to wash the cut. I had taken enough first aid to know what to do, so I simply went down to the river and washed it off. What I did not count on, however, was trying to get into the city. I finally had to just walk in with the other people with cuts and scrapes. We just sat in a line and waited for someone to tell us whether we should just wash it off and cover it or whether stitches were needed. That's when I got in trouble, since it was obvious I was female since I had to talk. Then they found out I was a girl and I spent the rest of the day hiding from those people looking for girls who had run away, which numbered three, but, of course, they all had to be looking for _me_. Then I found Mhera, sliding along the same wall as I, trying to avoid people in general.

"Mhera, what was your exit plan?" I muttered, teeth clenched.

"Ummm... I'll think of something," she said quickly.

"What!" I hissed. "You mean you hadn't thought of what to do next?"

"Hey, at least give me some credit for getting us to Gondor."

"Very well, you got us to Gondor. But now I'm going to have to disappear from Middle-earth altogether or live in the Minas Tirith sewers until Legolas sails."

"Oh, I'll think of something." And true to her word, she thought. "Hey, I know! I met those what-d'yah-call-ems, Dol Amrothians? Anyways, I did one of the lords a favor, and we might be able to sneak down to the sea with them."

I suddenly got an idea, one that had been tickling my mind for a while. "Mhera? What was this lord's name?"

She thought a minute. "I think it was Erchirion or something like that."

I stared. "Mhera, that's one of the sons of Prince Imrahil." I paused. "What exactly did you do?"

"I saved his life."

"Mhera! Do you realize what that means?"

"No. What?"

"There is a guy who is indebted to you. One who is high up on the social scale. Word of this will spread like wildfire, and we'll be hunted down like foxes."

"Do you always have to be so _pessimistic_?" she asked rhetorically, scanning the area for escape routes. "Okay, we know where you are, and we know where I am, and where Eowyn is. So where's Hope?"

I got a sick feeling in my stomach. "Mhera... what if she's hurt?"

Mhera looked down at her feet. "She'd be in the Houses of Healing."

"Mhera?"

"Hm?"

"Do you think we should look for her?"

Mhera sighed. "All right." She gave me a look that said, _are you bipolar?_ But I didn't care.

So we somehow found the Houses. It was pretty easy, seeing as most of the traffic led there. Once inside, we asked around for an injured hobbit maid. Word hadn't spread that much, but we found her easily enough. Honestly, how many hobbit girls manage to make their way to Gondor and get injured in the line of duty?

At the time, she was unconscious. Not surprising, considering she had a head wound and they bleed a lot. We waited until she regained consciousness, and she immediately asked if there was any soda. That was enough to make sure we did find a hobbit, not to mention that it was Hope. And then we were Found.

The Three Hunters were in the Houses, probably finishing healing the Great Three ( by that I mean Faramir, Eowyn, and Merry) and we, meaning Mhera and I, literally ran into them. Legolas was shocked again and couldn't talk, Aragorn stared for a while, and Gimli recovered first, as always. This time, though, his first comment was to Legolas. "Yeh know, we did not forbid her to come."

Aragorn then blinked, then cleared his throat. "We did not."

That's when I got my first ever vision. Visions are really weird; when you have them, it's like there's a transparent movie going on inside your head, dividing your attention. And what I saw was so weird, so unexpected, so _foul_, I thought I'd throw up. But I fainted instead.

When I woke up, I was lying down on a blanket in a corner. Mhera was dozing next to me, so I gently shook her. "Mhera? I saw something."

She shook herself awake the rest of the way, then looked at me with unfocused eyes. "Wha?" she said, not fully awake.

"Mhera? You know the 'Sues? They will be there- next to the Mouth. They didn't die when they went over the falls of Rauros; they survived and joined the enemy. I _know_."

Mhera looked at me suspiciously, but the effect was marred by a yawn. "You sure?"

I nodded. "Positive."

"Then we'll have to go to with 'em to the Gate," she groaned.

So we told the three about what we saw, and they were grateful to know that there would be a messenger from Sauron that would be a liar. They were also glad to know that the two 'Sues would be there, but they were disappointed when Mhera and I called 'dibs on them. "They are the reason we are even on this land mass," I said. "If we don't go this whole thing will be a waste."

So we're going. Oh, joy. A final reckoning.

**March 25**

I probably looked as Sue-ish as I ever have riding behind the leaders who were _supposed_ to be here. I mean, that's what the Sues do, right? Follow the good guys and defeat the bad guys? Mhera had to keep elbowing me and saying that it was the intent (whether to preserve canon or murder it) that makes the Sue.

But there we were, and when the Mouth came forward, it was probably the scariest single thing that I had seen- oiliphaunts included. The armor and helmet were sickeningly ornate and black. The visor on the helmet was down (if there was a visor) so I didn't see anything other than the Mouth- literally. Well, there was about a score of men (humans) behind him, also in black, but they did not draw attention to themselves. Then, from behind the group came two unwelcome figures, dressed in black, but looking perfect in it, not to mention smug.

"Mhera," I whispered. Those are the Sues."

And indeed they were. Sue One was in the most impractical thing ever seen on a battlefield. It was a low neckline dress with butterfly sleeves, an external corset, and a sickeningly high slit, and knee-high boots. Sue Two was wearing something similar, only it had less full sleeves and beads along the edge.

The Mouth went on and on, degrading Aragorn and Gandalf. I would record what was said, but the speech was so long that I don't remember it. Any fear that we might have had from what he said was lost because we simply got bored. Then he announced his terms: that no one should try to attack anything East of the Anduin and that would become part of Mordor, everything west of the Anduin should become a territory of Mordor, and the final thing surprised me:

"Those so-called rulers Laiqalasse of Taur e-Ndedelos" (that's Legolas' name from the First Age; yes, he is that old!) "and Aragorn of Gondor shall be held forever in the dungeons of Mordor, at least until their deaths, and the maid Arë is to be delivered as well, for impending execution."

There was silence. Then...

"I can't believe you left me out!" said Mhera, voice growing louder by the second. "If you're going to ruin Middle-earth, fine, but you're not going to simply leave me to stand by and watch!" She then dismounted, walked over to Sue One, who was paralyzed by fear (or a too tight corset) and sliced her head off. More silence, then, "That peroxide blonde was getting on my nerves."

The company (minus the obvious one) retreated, and that's where we are now.

**Later**

If you thought that was all that happened, you are mistaken. For right after that last entry was finished, the drums of Mordor started to beat.

There wasn't that much different between now and Pelennor, save the fact that I was never mounted in this battle. In Pelennor, the horse I was riding was shot out from under me very soon after we started, which was a good thing since I could barely ride. For this battle, I didn't even bother getting mounted, as trying to ride _and_ fight was too complicated for me. Luckily for me, Sue Two was also unmounted.

We found each other straight away, for reasons unexplained. Her with the ridiculous katana, and me with my sword (and bow and quiver; a certain elf made me carry them, and that dagger I'd carried around everywhere). We fought, and that's really all there is to say about it at that point. We were cut off from single combat as a troll came between us and we were both pushed back. And that's when my sword bent.

I didn't expect it to last me _forever_, but something over four months would have been nice. But that troll stepped on it, and there was a large rock under the sword, so it got an interesting new contour. I couldn't believe it at first, then some orc came around. I don't know what exactly I did, but a second later, an arrow was stuck through the roof of his mouth. I _think_ I grabbed it off the ground and stabbed it through like it was a dagger. Then I remembered I actually _had_ a dagger, and drew it. I kept fighting- I didn't have much of a choice. Even Elves have survival instincts, and I was relying heavily on them. And again, I saw Sue Two, this time trying to sneak around Gimli. I didn't think, but I threw. And all of a sudden, I saw my dagger- _my_ dagger, sitting in Sue Two's neck. Perfectly. Darn. Straight.

She slumped to the ground, and then I started using my only remaining weapon- the bow. Soon after, I heard the cry, "The Eagles!" and all I remember from that is pure, unadulterated relief. Now we go back to Minas Tirith. As soon as I find that dagger, that is.

**April 2**

Once we got back to Minas Tirith, we found Eowyn, sleeping. Hope can't yet get out of bed, but she's going to be fine. After messing around for a bit, we exchanged stories.

Mhera went first. Somehow, in the fight, she got mixed in with the Swan Knights of Dol Amroth. But suddenly a wave of orcs came towards the group. I wasn't there, but Mhera said that they were even larger than normal orcs, and they seemed to hate the Amrothians all the more for their elven blood. From there, I get conflicting accounts. Mhera said she managed to kill a few; however, two of the sons of Imrahil as well as that famous Prince say that she saved their lives. When I talked to the younger of the two (Amrothos) after our talk with Hope, he sighed slightly after he told the tale. Sorry, boy, but that girl's heart is taken.

My story, suffice to say, was what I expected: noisy, chaotic, and adrenaline-filled. I can't remember the details, but I remember the desperation of trying to save your neck. That very real feeling of people dying around you. I don't know whether humans feel it when lives are snuffed out prematurely, but I could tell. It rends your heart every time you feel it. Especially the very young ones. Among those of Rohan, there were too many who were below nineteen. There was one- he was fifteen, I am sure, just like me- I shall never forget his screams as he died. It shouldn't have been him to die. He had a life planned out for him after the war. I'm just an extra. _I_ should have died, not him.

* * *

_Reviewer Responses:_

_**FallenTruth:** Mhera would like to inform you that she will be carving out your heart with a wooden spoon soon. Is Thursday good for you?_

_**Laer:** How about a carrot? They're good raw..._

_**lior-a:** Okay, I didn't include much detail as I can't imagine what a battle would be like. It would be terrifying! However, I do not want to burden the world with my battle scenes. Those are one of the two things I can't, and won't, write: romance scenes and battle scenes._

_**Elven Bunny:** Yes, my friends are popping up like... rabbits._


	11. Oh Joy, Another One

Chapter 11: The Tyrrany of Needles

**

* * *

April 4**

I wasn't able to write yesterday because Mhera read that last sentence (actually, the whole entry) and took it away for the day. She said that if I was going to feel suicidal, I might as well _tell_ people instead of writing it down in "some stupid book" (not my words, but hers). Valar, she is _not_ my mother! But I will admit she would make a good one. Although, if she has anything to say about that, I don't know whether she would be. However, that is not a good question to ask her. I do not have a wish to die (contrary to her current belief.)

Good news! The ring is destroyed, and Frodo and Sam are recovering. I haven't seen them yet, because Mhera and I got together with the Captains for some talk about Our Futures.

Apparently, Mhera is being taken as afoster of Imrahil. And here's where things get odd; apparently, Imrahil _had_ a daughter (the books call her Lóthiriel) _buuuuut_, she was not named Lothiriel but Alquawen (same as Sue Two, but no matter) and she passed away from a fever when she was eight. That's apparently one of the reasons that Imrahil agreed to take her in, since he missed caring for a daughter. So, anyways, where's Lóthiriel? She is _extremely_ important to Rohan, since she ends up... Oh. My. Gosh. I think I know, but I need more facts.

I, however, am a bit of an issue. I have yet to save anyone (that time with Gimli doesn't count) and I am on the edge. They have yet to decide where to place me, but here are the possibilities I've heard: 1) stay in Minas Tirith as a ward to... someone. 2) go back to Rivendell until the last ship sails from there and then go with them. In the end, nothing was decided. They're going to put it off until things get settled. In the meantime, I am to stay with Mhera, who is staying with the Dol Amroth party.

Okay, I've got to give in to another suicidal thought: what if Arien wants my head on a platter for the murder of her goddaughter? Oh well. At least I didn't do it.

**April 5**

They're planning a ceremony to honor Frodo and Sam, and I am helping to plan it. It's actually a bit fun to plan things like this- kind of like a logic puzzle, especially for seating. _"Since the Lord of Suchandsuch a province cannot sit by the Prince of Somethingorother, where do you place Sir Someone?_ Mhera quickly tired of it, and then dragged me off to do something "more fun" which turned out to be riding lessons with the Lords of Dol Amroth. Let's face it: I stink. But Mhera insists that I learn, as I "can't walk everywhere like a stupid cow" (her words, not mine).

**April 8**

The ceremony went off well- no big problems. There was a slight mistake in seating, which was instantly rectified. Then the ceremony, which was beautiful. There even was a song written for the event, "Long live the Halflings!" which was interesting. Then there was a picnic of sorts, where I sat with Mhera and the Dol Amroth brothers (Hope was with Merry and the other hobbits, attacking the food). Amrothos has apparently gotten quite used to having Mhera as a foster sister, so he wove a crown of flowers and put it on her head, saying "Lóthiriel, Lóthiriel!" in a sing-song voice until she started chasing him around. Elphir looked at them and sighed, but Erchirion and I were laughing, which caused Elphir to stare at us. Oh, well. I can be the proper elf when I've properly grown up, which is in another... 3009 solar years (I did the math in the margin). So there, Elphir!

**April 9**

Bad news. Legolas has been hit- _hard_, by sea-longing. Interestingly enough, I used to have sea-longing as a human (being Norse) and this desire to go _vest i havet_ is not new. But I was wandering through the top level of the city when I stumbled upon him, just sitting there, looking south. I didn't know really what to do, so I just sat on another bench. A long time later he spoke.

"Are, do you know what the sea is?"

I didn't know how to answer that at first. Then I thought, and finally got an answer. "It is eternal and unending. It changes and does not change. It shows things and conceals. It gives lives and takes them away. It is always there, yet never the same as the last time you saw it."

He simply nodded, and kept looking southwest.

**May 1**

Aragorn was crowned today. Somehow they managed to fit everyone on the top of the city. It was packed, but everyone was up there. There was music, the crowning (done by Faramir) a speech, and a large party. I was hard-pressed to find a non-alcoholic beverage, but I did find some water. Right after I found it, I noticed someone following me. I whirled around and nearly walked straight into Amrothos.

"Mhera has called you Runa, has she not?" he asked. I nodded slowly, wondering where this would lead. "Well, there is a girl that has been found, and Mhera said to 'get "Runa,"' which happens to be you."

"What's her name?" I asked, getting a sick feeling in my stomach.

"She said Milla first, but then she said that if you didn't remember to say that Tsuki was here, but if-" He never got to finish his sentence, because I was running outside into the frigid night rain- well, as well as I could manage in the dress that Mhera (of all people) made me wear. I skidded out onto the spire thing that separates the two sides of the city and ran directly towards the figures of Mhera and the other humanoid, who was standing next to a glowing rock.

"Milla!" I shouted, grabbing said girl around the neck and hugging her tightly.

"Ru...na..." she rasped out. I quicly let go of her to let her breathe.As soon as she caught her breath, she said nonchalantly, "You know, everyone went crazy back home when you two disappeared. It made national headlines. Oh, and next time you decide to go into some other dimension, bring me along tooso Idon'thave towait."

"Oops. Sorry 'bout that," I grinned. This was, to allow a crossover term, Mhera's and my Padawan in the Sue-hating arts. She was very promising- that is, until I ended up switching dimensions on her. I have no idea what's happened since then.

"So, have you kept up your studies while Mhera and I have been running around here?"

"Finished the Silmarillion," she said proudly. She then knelt down to scratch that glowing rock. "Isn't that right, Glerfy?"

"What?" I asked, confused.

Milla stopped scratching. "Of all people, you should know. This, my friends, is Glerfindel, a mini- balrog."

Mini-balrogs are interesting creatures. According to the PPC, they are spawned when names of canon characters get mangled by writers, and are, as you probably guessed, miniature versions of balrogs. This one looked a bit like a put-out bulldog with tiny wings and one of those demon tails. Of course, I thought they belonged to fanfic-dom, but come to think of it, this may very well _be_ fanfic-dom. We can never tell.

"We should probably get your mini out of the rain. Though the stories are great when it comes to their prowess in Sue battle, we have no idea how they do in the rain," Mhera said. And in truth, Glerfy was looking a bit sad and stiff. I mean, if he relies on heat to keep him from turning into a rock, the cold rain that was going on outside couldn't be good for him. Plus, inside I'd be able to see what she looked like now. All I could tell now was that her hair was slightly thinner and a lot longer (she formerly had evilly thick short hair) and she herself was slightly thinner.

We did manage to quietly slip inside (actually, not _that_ quietly, since Mhera bumped into a marble statue of a former steward in the hall and nearly sent it onto the floor, and a metal vase and some other small anddelicate objects). Once we got into semi-decent lighting, I got to look at Milla. She still had the same eyes, and was wearing an outfit similar to Mhera's. But most surprisingly, she looked... older. A lot. As if she was nearly twenty-one. Then I realized what I had also seen in Mhera. Along with the fact that Mhera had black hair and no glasses, I noticed something else I couldn't place at the time, but now I knew; it was age. I knew for a fact I had aged at a human rate since Lórien (except for my hair which is growing about three inches per month; curse side effects!) and had not aged (to my knowledge) in transfer. For some reason, I was left the child. And the weird thing was, it made sense. I was probably the least ready to become an adult of any of them. And now, I have all the time in the world- literally.

**May 2**

All of us girls got to go see Frodo today, even though I was the only one that actually met him at first. We chatted, ate, talked, then ate some more. Then, courage bolsted by hobbit fare, I asked Frodo for a favor.

"What?" he asked.

I took a deep breath. "When you continue your cousin Bilbo's book- and we know about the book- leave us," I gestured at myself, Milla, Hope, and Mhera, "out of it."

Frodo looked confused (poor hobbit). "What do you mean?"

I elaborated. "No one needs to know any of us, including those two monsters, were here." I had promised myself not to speak their names if I could help it. "Just cover for us, all right?"

"What about the time you dragged Merry and Pippin out of harm's way?"

Darn. I didn't know anybody besides those two realized that. "Say they just ran into the caves."

"But what about Lady Eowyn going to war? That was by your influence."

"Eowyn came up with the idea on her own."

"And what about Mhera here? As a daughter of Prince Imrahil-" he nodded to said girl.

"Use her new nickname," I responded, dodging a punch as I said it. Mhera is not the sort of person to be named, "maiden garlanded with flowers," but Amrothos' joke spread all over the city, and pretty much everyone called her Lothiriel save myself and Milla.

"And Miss Hope?"

"How about you call her Estella? That's should work. It's the Elvish feminine, no?"

"All right. And your little Glorfindel-"

"_Gler_findel," corrected Milla.

"Is to be left out as well? When we were trying to get to that mountain," involuntary shudder, "That creature brought us some things to eat. They were round and crisp and had soft brown things in them..."

"GLERFY!" yelled Milla, "DID YOU STEAL MY COOKIES? GET BACK HERE!" The meeting was adjourned to allow Milla to catch her mini.

* * *

_Reviewer responses:_

_**FallenTruth:** I don't know whether Saturday is good for her; we have a paper for history due on Monday about the role of women up until 1200 CE. And do you have to have a payed account to have a story in a C2? If not, then you can put it in there._

_**Laer:** Yay! Someone can see my reasoning in not putting in the gory details._

_**angeltread:** Oh no ("Gah!")it's the attack of the ("back, I warn you!")roach lawyers! I think we should ("get off me!")find something else to compare Sues to. How about ("Please, no!") slugs? Gaah! ("No, not slug lawyers!") Save yourself ("No, have mercy!"), angeltread!_

_**lior-a: **I don't think Runa's the joking type. She's rather naive, like myself. Honestly, my friends call me "virgin ears."_

_**kd7sov:** I've been updating every day; would that explain the fact that you've missed some stuff?_

* * *

I shall update as soon as the slugs and roaches release me. _Aaaaaaaaaand..._

As soon as I get more reviews. I've already passed the fifty mark; let's see whether we can bring it to seventy-five.


	12. I'm Bound Away

Chapter Eleven: The Tyranny of Needles

Note: A lot of this chapter and the following chapter has to deal with sewing. I wrote the sewing part when I was getting really frustrated doing last minute costumes for the school musical, all of which had to be done by hand (mom was on the machine). You can probably figure out what I hate most; prize to the first one who figures it out! As for some brief sewing-lingo, a basting stitch is a very loose stitch (usu. 6 per inch) that holds pieces together before they are actually sewn together. Frogs are made of a loop and an intricate knot that lock together.

**May 3**

I don't care what those idiots say; I'm leaving as soon as I can. Which, I think, is in July. In the meantime, I am learning how to properly sew without a sewing machine. As it turns out, I'm pretty good with a needle and thread for a beginner; at least my stitches are tiny and even. Now to work on getting them in a straight line...

**May 5**

Yay! Now my stitches are even, tiny, _and_ straight! The person who's been teaching me (temporary governess-type person named Iril) said I'm ready to make my first dress. I started on it this morning, and have finished cutting the pieces and basting the bodice. I'm lucky that my mom taught me how to make pattern pieces from scratch, 'cause otherwise I'd be lost.

**May 7**

Bodice finished, on to skirt. Sleeves are plain EVIL! I hate them. What took the most time on the dress were the hooks up the back. Yes, that's how dresses stay on in Gondor- they _hook_. Apparently there is no hope of dressing yourself in one of those contraptions. Someone needs to invent zippers, or better yet, make buttons acceptable for females to wear! On second thought, scratch that. Buttonholes are the spawn of Melkor. I like frogs much better.

**May 10**

I want to burn this dress I want to burn this dress I want to burn this dress...

I have to re-do the sleeves (how they attach to the bodice) and have started working on the skirt. Why do those seams have to be so darn long? And hemming. Hemming is really overrated.

**May 13**

Dress finished. I took it to Iril and she said that it was amazingly good for someone who has never sewed before. But yet I receive punishment. MORE DRESSES! And this time I have to embroider the neckline. And did I mention the needles here are curved fish bones? I CAN'T DO THIS!

And where, may you ask, have Mhera, Milla, and Hope been while I have endured such torture? Well, Milla found out very early that she was a Shape Shifter (even rarer than elves) and has been avoiding Iril like the plague using her shape- I think it's a black cat or dog, fox maybe? Mhera has been out riding (or so she says, though I don't doubt her) every day with "other people." Hope- Estella- has been conspiring with Merry to spy on Eomer, which turned out to be spying on Mhera as well. Let's just say that Estella and Merry would be headless if Mhera knew what they had seen. And in case Mhera reads this: I didn't see anything!

**May 20**

Word has come that Arwen's coming to the city, so we're all preparing for the wedding. I've stopped working on the dress and have started working on the ever-so-ladylike skill of _conversing_. For instance, did you know that in Gondor it is socially unacceptable to say anything about a woman's pregnancy in mixed company? And speaking of pregnancy, I've been learning about midwifery, which is a skill that "every woman needs to know" (Iril's words). Mind you, I don't have any practical experience, but I know something now.

In fact, I have been learning about: sewing, embroidery, cooking (don't know why), medicinal herbs, knife fighting (defensive only, useful in protecting my honor, should it come to that), keeping accounts (I'm acing this one; I was taking math classes at two years above the norm before I left) letter writing, Elvish (adding to my vocabulary; mostly new verbs) , and etiquette. And I think that's it...

For now. I shudder in anticipation.

**May 30**

All right, things are ridiculously boring here. Especially since I refuse to spy on the two (yup, count 'em, _two_) couples, or join the spying couple. The two couples being: a) the obvious Mhera and Eomer and b) the new Milla and Amrothos! Who'd a thunk? And the spying couple being Merry and Hope, everyone seems paired off. Mhera offered to find me some Rider of the Eorlingas (did I spell that right?) but I refused. I mean, I really don't _want_ to get married anytime soon.

But I do have to admit, I want to have a child sometime in my life. Stupid estrogen and maternal instincts!

I promise I won't say anything more until I have something interesting to say.

**June 25**

Something interesting has happened! Aragorn found a sapling of the White Tree today! I was there, though unofficially, when it was planted in the same place as the old tree was. Those half-walls are really great to hide behind. That means that in approximately five days Arwen's going to arrive.

Custody update: I still don't belong to anybody. No leads, either.

**Lithe (June 31, sorta)**

Because of this weird calendar, I was thrown off a bit. It's been six days, and Arwen arrived today. Thanks to some strategic hinting (cough_me_cough) wedding preparations were already underway. I'm still stuck on seating chart duty. Legolas came in (which is the first time I'd seen him since the coronation) and requested that I put in space for his wife and daughter. It looks like I'll finally get to meet this enemy of most 'Sues!

**Midsummer's day (July negative first?)**

Okay, so I didn't attend the coronation, and I have to say that Iril was not an absolute idiot making me learn all I did. I was on my way to the coronation when a frantic woman- just a year or two older than me who I later learned was called Urwen- grabbed my arm and said that her sister was giving birth. So I was commandeered to help. I won't describe what happened. But here's the sad part; I don't even want to say it, but I will. I have to.

The sister's husband died in the war, so she was left alone except for Urwen. She'd been very ill before the child was born. She barely survived childbirth.

We did everything we could think of; I even got some herbs from the Houses, ones that help labor go smoothly (yes, Iril, I did listen). But the mother's now delirious, leaving a scrawny girl with a cataract in her right eye. I hope it falls out when she gets older, but it's unlikely. Urwen named the little girl Glin. I hope she'll be all right; Urwen says that she'll take Glin in until her mother comes out of delirium.

Why does the world have to be such an unfair place?

**July 12**

I went to go see Urwen and Glin today. I got to hold Glin, which is actually the first time I've ever held a baby. Urwen says that her sister (whose name is Aelin) is not much better, but not worse. I hope she'll be fine.

Oh, and I got to meet the famous Mrs. Greenleaf, since the first time we were supposed to be in the same room, I was busy with Aelin and Glin. I gotta say this, she is _gorgeous_. Absolutely _gorgeous_. That little girl (didn't see her; "nap time") has won the genetic lottery. And the mom was really nice, too. She asked what I wanted to do, now that everything was over. I replied that I wasn't sure- not absolutely accurate, but accurate enough to make the lie part undetectable.

**July 19**

Everyone is going to Edoras for Theoden's funeral. I'm still tagging along, and have been barely noticed. That was actually the whole plan that I came up with in Imadris-no, _before_ Imadris when I was stuck with Sue One. The less I did, the less rewriting of the truth Frodo might have to do. And it was really easy to melt into the background. Now I just have to do a little convincing with the adults and the rest of the plan will go into motion.

**August 10**

Funeral of King Theoden. I must say that they have a most optimistic view of death, seeing it as "an opportunity for the young to grow," (not my words, but someone else's; I don't know whose). So after the funeral was Eomer's crowning, and a huge party. If I had my way, I would have locked myself in a broom closet and stayed there the entire party, but Mhera pointed out that I'd probably be taking away one of the few private spots in the hall. Once she said that, I just smirked. I'd read enough Lothiriel- and- Eomer- get- locked- in- a- closet stories that I figured it was probably a good idea to find another hiding place.

Okay, so hiding under a table is probably not the most original place to hide, but here I am. Sitting next to the Milla- dog- fox- cat thing.

I told Milla a little of my plan. I couldn't expect to swear a dog- fox- cat thing to secrecy, but she'd better not tell anyone. Or else...

On second thought, she was probably asleep. Milla could sleep through anything if she wanted.

**August 11**

Okay, Mhera found us very soon after I wrote that last bit and dragged me out from under the table- she didn't see Milla. So I wouldn't be allowed to hide, but I found a nice uninhabited corner to sit in. It was all too loud in my opinion.

**August 12**

We're back to custody debate. It's still Minas Tirith or Imladris. They picked it up again now that it matters more. If I go to Minas Tirith, I go east in two days time. If I go to Imladris, I go west in two days time. I think they're leaning towards Imladris, but I'm not sure.

**August 14**

Okay, Imladris it is. It was actually 'Dan and 'Ro' who determined that, because they said that I should be with those of my own kind, albeit new kind. Umm... okay. You think that.

**August 22**

Okay, we're at Isengard now. Gimli, Legolas, Mhera, Milla, and Aragorn are leaving the main group. The rest of us are on to Imladris. Galadriel and Celeborn will leave at Moria. I won't say any more until we get to Imladris. Promise, cross my heart.

**September 22**

Imladris at last! Hallelujah for hot baths and clean clothes! Just because I can't get really dirty doesn't mean that I don't love baths. Hope and I have had fun terrorizing the hobbits since the others left. I think that if anyone says the name "Dooku" near one of those poor four again they will jump twice their height.

Oh, and I intend on staying with Hope for a while. Shall I tell her of the plan? Nope, I think I'll keep it between the people I've told. The Norse had a good way of putting it in their _Elder Edda_: "Everyone knows what is known to three." But wait, three people know already if Milla wasn't asleep. Oh well, it can't be helped.

* * *

_Reviewer responses:_

_**FallenTruth:** Yay, I'm in a C2! I feel so fulfilled._

_**angeltread:** I managed to escape the roaches and have set up shop in a random location in Middle-earth. Who knew that Moria had wireless web access? I'd invite you to join me, but I don't think your cat would like it._


	13. Darn You, Pheremones!

Darn You Pheremones!

**October 28**

We arrived at Bree. That was probably the nicest place I'd been to, Imladris included. Too many bad memories of Sue One.

I didn't tell anyone this, but I intend on staying in Bree. I mean, I could probably have stayed in Minas Tirith, but to what end? I'd get bartered off to be a dumb wife of some nobleman, end up having his children (which is one of those things I really fear; having the children of someone I don't love) and be unhappy forever. So, the only thing I could think of was to hide out in Bree for eternity, or at least until Mhera dies and/or sails. I can get work as a seamstress' assistant here; I asked the innkeeper about employment in the area, and said that was the only acceptable employment for a young lady in the area. And I will not stay as "Arë" or even "Runa"; I'd be too easy to track. I chose an entirely different name. I'm "Ellie Rue" now. Ellie's short for Elinor which is Common Speech for light. Not totally different from Are, but not suspect.

Before you start going ballistic, I did talk to an adult (Elrond) in Imladris about my plan, and he thought it would be all right, and once it was noticed that I was not under the care of one of the people who had been looking after me, he would say that I had gone away. He promised he wouldn't say where, and only tell them I was safe. My part of the bargain was to stay in Bree and write a letter once a year (at the very least) summarizing how I was, until he had left for Lindon. He also said that if anything happened (meaning I got married or had a kid) he expected a letter as well. Just so he could pass the news on to the people who cared about me.

**October 30**

I got the job. It doesn't pay that well, but I bunk in the attic and board is included, so I'm fine for now.

I was started working on men's shirts. Mistress Hedge (the seamstress) said that if I was going to prove I could sew, that was the way to do it. If I messed up, the men wouldn't notice. Women _always_ noticed if something was wrong.

Fortunately, the pieces were already cut out, and all I had to do was baste and then stitch. The first shirt I did was for the blacksmith in Archet. I tell you, that guy must be _huge_. And fortunately for me, shirts in Bree are made from five pieces, one back, two front, and one per sleeve. The dresses that I made in Minas Tirith were fourteen pieces: two per sleeve, three front, two back, and four skirt. Freedom at last!

One bad point: There are buttonholes. Curse you, buttons, for making me sew buttonholes!

I did consider the fact that I'd have to pretend that I'm not an elf, but there's little I can do. For now, it's just rag curls. And did you know that Elven hair doesn't need to be washed over once a season? I _love_ that. It never feels oily, either. So the curls will stay tight for a while (they've been in four days and haven't relaxed a bit), and I won't have to redo them that often.

--

Okay, you're probably wondering how I gave the hobbits the slip. I said I was returning to Imladris, and they actually believed me. It wasn't that hard, seeing as they were worried about what would happen in the Shire. Then I doubled back to town, and tried to find the seamstress. The rest I already wrote down.

**November 1**

Mistress Hedge said I could work on dresses now. She also said that my work was good, although I still had plenty to learn. But today we didn't work on dresses; we worked on cloaks, seeing as winter is coming and all. I hemmed; she embroidered the ladies' cloaks on the front.

She also broke a fishbone needle. I'm supposed to go see her brother tomorrow (it's nearly dark now) and ask him whether he has any more.

Oh, to clarify. Mistress Hedge has a brother- that huge blacksmith down in Archet who I made the first shirt for. He also had a wife, but she died of a fever last year. He does have a four- year- old son (named Ben) but he lives up in Bree with us. That's actually pretty practical; having a kid around all that hot metal is asking for trouble. And apparently he (the blacksmith- not his son) likes to fish, and turns the ribs into needles for his sister, because she doesn't have a husband who can do it for her.

**November 2**

Can you die of nostalgia? I wish, almost.

I went to Archet to see this blacksmith, told him I was working for his sister, and asked if he had any needles. He was a bit suspicious at first, seeing as his sister never said she was looking to hire help, butwith persuasionhe finallygave three needles to me.

Then on my way back, I heard a sound I had not heard in a very long time. I couldn't stop myself from tuning the corner to see a gaggle of children sitting around a man tuning a fiddle.

When one hears a sound every day since before birth when one'sinside the womb and keeps hearing it for years, and that sound suddenly goes away, it leaves a hole in the heart. Then, when one hears it again, it's like a new life. My dad had played the violin for years before I was born, and he kept playing it nearly every day until I was old enough to hold a violin and play the melodies for myself. You can't give up on something like that. No, not if you've lived with it for over fifteen years and taken it into your very soul.

I just stood there, staring at the fiddler, concentrating on the sound like my life depended on it; at that point, it probably did. I didn't even notice when I had joined the circle of children listening to him play. After he finished the piece- a simple folk tune- he looked up at me, confused. I guess he didn't get many adult listeners.

"Could I see it?" I asked quietly. "I know how to play it."

"Umm... yes," he handed me the fiddle. "But don't drop it."

"I won't," I said, looking the fiddle over before I played it. It was an ordinary dark varnish, but the sound was very chocolaty for a violin, Czech-sounding, and it was more of an introvert instrument... am I boring you? Oh well, onwards, I guess.

I can't express how wonderful it was to put bow to string and play a tune- a simple folk tune that I'd learned in a fiddling book (I think the title was "Si Bhaeg Si Mhor). It was bliss.

Then I simply handed the fiddle back and continued on my way.

I wish I hadn't. The fiddler was cute.

**November 4**

We just got news this morning about the freeing of the Shire. I heard that Saruman was momentarily distracted by someone in the crowd yelling "You killed Dooku!" (guess who) and he was shot while his attention was elsewhere. If I wasn't in hiding, I'd strangle that girl-err... hobbit. However, I think the story got mangled in translation. I remember reading that Wormtongue killed Saruman. Hmm... seems like the gossips mixed up the two evils.

**November 5**

I finally got an idea for the brooches! This was bugging me for a while. When you want to fasten a cloak here, you use a brooch. Why not use those hooks that I used in Gondor, only size them bigger? Children would be able to fasten their cloaks easier, and it's got to be less nerve-wracking if there isn't a sharp point near your throat. I told Mistress Hedge about them, and she said that we'd better get some wire and try them out.

Oh, and I found out the name of the fiddler. His name is Jan, pronounced YAN. He's the town carpenter. I hope I get to see him again.

**November 10**

There's a silly little rhyme that the children have been singing around Bree. What, you think _I_ started it? Whatever made you think of that?

All right, I confess my guilt. I just started saying it when I was sewing since I was really bored. Ben was sitting inside as it was snowing, playing with a doll, and he heard it. It goes something like this:

_Oh, what a to-do to die today at a minute or two 'til two:  
__A thing distinctly hard to say, but harder still to do.  
__But beat a tattoo at twenty 'til two  
__(a ra-ta-ta-ra-ta-ta-ra-ta-ta-too)  
__and the dragon will come when he hears the drum  
__at a minute or two 'til two today at a minute or two 'till two._

Yeah, it's catchy. I learned it at summer music camp as an annunciation exercise, and it stuck. And now the children of Bree seem to love it, now that Ben insisted on learning it and he told everyone he knew. But I don't think it'll ruin canon that much...

I hope.

**November 12**

I had to go get more needles today from the blacksmith. I think I lingered a little more than was called for on that street where I heard the fiddle. I probably did not have to turn the rope in the children's jumping games (It's not like jump rope, since the rope has a different pattern. It goes from side to side, then around.) But eventually, he came out. Jan.

He just watched the children play, then took something that looked like it would be a cup and started to smooth it out with a knife. I hope he saw me.

Gah, I'm starting to sound lovesick! It's just a mild crush, right?

Darn you pheromones!

**November 18**

The hooks are a hit! They just take a little extra sewing to attach them, but they work fine. They're especially big with the parents of young kids. Adults still use brooches, but they seem to think it's a relief that they don't have to pin their children's cloaks. Next project: frogs. I love 'em.

**November 27**

I was literally shoved out of the shop/house by Mistress Hedge, saying that I need to go meet people, and while I was out, would I find Ben and make sure he doesn't fall through the ice in the millpond? So I went by the jump-o'er-the-rope place (yeah, that's what they call jumprope). Fortunately, the children, including Ben, were there. Unfortunately, they saw me and crowded around, begging for another song like the "dragon one." So I sang this little song about a little porcelain statuette that falls in love with the maid who dusted him. I did change a few words though, like "fender edge" to "mantelpiece," but the rest was the same- I think. The children were indignant that the maid would be "so mean," and immediately proposed making her sit in a corner with no toys for an entire morning. I laughed and explained that this happened a long time ago (if ever) and they would not be able to find her, but I was sure she was "spanked once the cat told the mistress what really happened." Then the children clamored for another silly song, this time about a cat, so I sang, "I Bought Me a Cat," which they loved. Then I was out of songs, so I helped turn the rope.

When it was about noon, I had to take Ben home for lunch. I could have sworn that I saw the carpenter looking out his window when we walked past.

* * *

_Reviewer responses:_

_**FallenTruth:** Believe me; I noticed. You get cookies _and_ hot chocolate. Marshmallows or no? Anyways, you are wrong as for what I hate most. This chapter should help you out._

_**Cainwen the Warrior:** You didn't guess correctly. However, I've got a lot more sewing in this chapter, so that ought to help. And let me guess: your stitches are tiny, even, _and _straight. I hate you. Anyone who can sew a straight seam is evil._

_**angeltread:** Hey, I never thought of Mordor! But since the tower's out, I don't think I'll have my web access. It's possible to get used to the stench of rotting dwarves 'round here, and I haven't seen a troll yet. And yes, all hail Glorfindel! Poor thing, he has so many mini-balrogs, and he doesn't deserve them... Oh, by the way. Do you think that this Glorfindel has been sent back from the dead by Mandos to help Middle-earth a second time or do you think he's a namesake?_


	14. Methen i Narn

Chapter 14: Methen i Narn

(if I spelled that right, the title of this chapter's pretty important!)

**

* * *

December 4**

I finally got to talk to Jan today. I mean, actually _talk_. Again, it's all thanks to Ben and his obsession with jump-o'er-the-rope. That day, they had enough children so that they didn't need me to turn the rope. Instead, I was ordered to stand back and watch the children show off on an area cleared of snow. Then he (meaning Jan) came out of the workshop and leaned on a fencepost while working on- something, at any rate.

"Hello," he said rather casually. I wasn't expecting it, however, so I was startled.

"Oh, hello," I responded. "I didn't notice you." Big fat lie number one.

He shrugged. "It is curious that you should have learned to play the fiddle." It was a question, not a statement.

So I came up with a partially true answer. "My father had no sons to teach, but he had a fiddle and a daughter."

"Oh. And why did you come here? You are not from the area."

"Dale." Big fat lie number two. "Things were not safe in the East when I left there." Big fat lie number three.

"But how did you arrive here?"

"My entire family was traveling to Rohan. Then orcs attacked from the south on the way. I don't know whether anyone else survived or not; it is possible. Then I found a road that took me here." Big fat lies numbers four, five, and six (I wasn't traveling to Rohan with my family, orcs attacked from the east, and I didn't find the road).

"That must have been terrible."

"Indeed."

Thus the extent of conversation. After this, someone mercifully got tangled in the rope, and I had to undo it, then Ben and I had to go home.

**December 10**

I just thought of something: Jan doesn't have a Bree accent. Judging from what I've heard, he's Gondorian, and not low class. That's suspicious to say the least, which makes me realize how suspicious I am. People have got to be suspicious. Maybe I should have stayed in Gondor after all.

Or not. The freedom here is great.

Oh, and it's really cold here. I guess I'm picking up on the farmer-talk. Pretty much everyone here cares about farming. And temperatures are important.

**January 20**

Ben hid this book under his mattress for over a month (for reasons unexplained), so this is the first time I've been able to write for a while. I could say everything, but here's a quick summary: I'm still undiscovered (relatively), Ben still hasn't managed to kill himself, and I've talked with Jan a lot. Haven't discovered where he's from yet, but a hint: he has a knife with tengwar script on it. It wasn't written in a mode I could read, so what it says is beyond me.

I do believe the ink in the pen is freezing. I will return when it thaws out.

**March 15 **

Oh. My. God. It's happened again! AGAIN, I TELL YOU! What did I do to deserve this? Come on, doesn't Middle-earth need more men than women now? And why do they have to be imported from other dimensions? This is just TOO MUCH! And this time, it was the sugar-loving-white-water-rafting-blonde-at-heart-friend. Not the are-you-crazy-I-will-not-wear-that-skirt-or-any-form-thereof-friend or the fire-is-your-best-friend-friend (that sounds weird) or even the I-love-General-Grievous-friend. They were already here, so I guess Aerin was down to the bottom of the barrel.

I was with Ben, trying to keep him from drowning himself in the river by giving him swimming lessons. He has nearly drowned twice, and I luckily follow him like a shadow when he goes out. I mean, I can work during the night sewing up seams. I don't have to really sleep that much, and I can see unless it's a new moon. Valar bless my night vision. But that's not the point. All of a sudden a bright yellow shape came rushing down the river, only to get stuck on a rock. I was wondering what in Utumno this was until the shape let out a yell, "I went POOF!"

Ladies and gentlemen, meet Lisa. The blondest person with out-of-control-curly red hair. No offence to her, but she is scatterbrained. But she's not dumb; she does really well in school. She, like I, simply never got her common sense ration when whoever designed us gave it out. That's probably why we found each other in preschool, and have annoyed the sensible world since.

"What's that, Miss Ellie?" asked Ben. He always insisted on the "miss" part; I don't know why.

"Ben, trust me, it is best that you not know. But now, you must run home and tell your aunt that Ellie met someone she knew at the river. Can you do that?" He nodded and raced off towards Bree. Meanwhile, I continued to wade towards Lisa and her lifejacket, which was the yellow thing.

"Lisa!" I said, trying to get her attention.

She turned around, and it took a second for her to recognize me. "Sikkiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!" she screamed, and gave me a big hug. Needless to say, I was soaked at this point.

"Umm..."

"Oh." For some reason, whenever we meet, we have to strangle one another. It's the unbreakable rule. But this time was different. "Wait, you're not Sikki. She doesn't have curly hair. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH THE REAL SIKKI?"

"Lisa," I said. "Calm down. Do I have to prove who I am? And it's been Runa ever since I got tired of those people making jokes about me being ill all the time." She put on her stubborn face. I sighed, "All right. We met each other in preschool, didn't see each other for ten years, met at an All-State, and our English teacher thought we're joined at the hip."

Lisa immediately brightened. "It's you! YAY!" I swore some birds fled from the area, but I couldn't verify it.

"Okay, glad you could join us. You're the fifth to arrive; so far, it's been me, Mhera, Hope, and Milla. It's after the War by over a year. Hope's in the Shire, Milla should be in Dol Amroth, Mhera's in Edoras or thereabouts, and I'm here in Bree. Mhera and I were turned into elves, Milla's a shapeshifter, and Hope's a hobbit. First order of business is to find out what you are. Oh, and the name's Ellie here. And I think that's it."

"Wha?" Lisa said, her face the picture of confusion. I said everything again and elaborated as I helped her wring out her mass of red curls, which took nigh on forever, and for us both to dry out.

"Ya know," Lisa said as a bee landed gently on her hand, "I think this insect just said something to me."

"Okay, that explains a lot." In Middle-earth there was one species that could manage not to get stung by bees, and those were the Beornings, the only remnants of the Shapeshifters. So she is somehow related to Milla now. Lovely.

--

Oh, we just found out she can turn into a hawk. She flew off this evening after a meal to go to the Beornings, since there is no way she could live here- there are no jobs, or game, in winter, and she should be with her own kind (she's that sort of person). I miss her, even though it's only about an hour. After all, we _have_ known each other since toddlerhood. Life is cruel.

**March 24**

It's right before planting season, and time for a new tradition (to me, anyways). Apparently, right before the difficult planting season, there's a sort of a holiday where people exchange the little trinkets that they made to prevent insanity while they were cooped up during the winter. I gave Mistress Hedge a scarf I embroidered and Ben got a rag doll with a little cloth helmet and a shirt that could pass for chain mail in color and texture. I gave Jan a handkerchief-sized piece of a fine weave cloth to clean his fiddle strings with (it _was_ a handkerchief- one I learned to hem on back in Gondor, and all the cloth here is really coarse-woven). Mistress Hedge gave me a hair kerchief, and Ben gave me a button he painted for one of my "fwogs". Then Mistress Hedge handed me a palm-sized bundle wrapped in a piece of tattered wool fabric.

"Who's it from?" I asked.

Mistress Hedge put a finger to the side of her nose and smiled. "I'm not supposed ta be tellin' ya. Jus' open it; I've been wantin' to know what's in there for ages!"

I opened it carefully and revealed two wooden combs- the type you keep in your hair to keep it back. But these weren't at all like the tortoiseshell plastic ones my mom let me use; these were straightoothed and they were carved with delicate leaves. I looked to Mistress Hedge. "Is there something about a gift of combs that I should know about?"

"No," she said, smiling smugly. I sighed, but caught a little mutter that sounded like, "just something about a gift so special." I decided not to press it. I probably didn't want to know.

**March 28**

My pen is leaking and splattering ink everywhere. This'll be the last thing I write. Farewell.

But one last note:

I think I am in love with Jan. And I think he's one of the Dúnedain. And I think it was he who sent me the combs.

**METTA**

**METHEN**

**For all you who don't speak Numenorean or Quenya... END**

* * *

_Reviewer Responses:_

_**FallenTruth:** But old-fashioned nursery-rhymes are BORING! Those kids deserve better than that for all I've put them through. Also, Glorfindel rocks! He needs fangirls more than that "stupid moriquendi git" does (that's from "The Scruff Factor" by jo slater)! As far as the love intrest goes, you'll just have to wait and see, won't you? But you'll be getting an outside perspective. And are right: I hate buttonholes with a passion! I had to do them on _all_ the boy's vests in the summer musical. Harumph. That's what they do to extras! For winning, I would give you some German chocolate cake, but then you'd have to start jogging to lose all the weight I've made you gain. How about some celery instead? Mmmm, fiber!_

_**angeltread:** Yes! I'm not the only person who reads those books! HOORAY! And I don't think I'll be storming Barad-dur anytime soon. Mordor's grown on me, and that Watcher is really friendly once you get to know her. Yes, HER. Tolkien never gave us a gender, did he? And so many of the cool creatures are male._

_**Crecy:** As do we all, as do we all._

_**lior-a:** Wow, cookie wishing actually works! And no one's taking my carpenter. MINE!_

* * *

Even though this story's over, please review! I take 'em late! I take 'em anonymous! If I get enough, I might just move a book seller to Coomb, complete with diaries and pens.


	15. Epilogue

Epilogue

(because I wanted to respond to those last reviews and had to have a chapter to do so)

* * *

"Ben, what on earth are you doing?" Maggie laughed as she climbed up the creaking ladder.

"Cleaning out," her fiance answered as he moved aside some shingles. "Since that storm blew the roof in I thought I'd clean up my aunt's old place again. Funny, I never thought to do the upstairs when I cleared everything out after she died."

"I'll help, then," said Maggie decisively as she began to pick up the remains of a chair and bedstead. "That was a mighty strong storm," she commented. "Why, it drove this chair leg clean through the floor. Oh, hang on, it's coming loose now."

When the chair leg came out from under the drying wood a miniature avalanche of dust, wood splinters, and water droplets ensued, revealing an oilcloth bundle from underneath. "Ben, what d'you make of this?" she handed him the bundle carefully.

"I dunno," he said, examining the outside. "I don't remember seeing this before."

"Why don't you open it?" Maggie suggested, eyes wide with curiosity.

Ben shrugged and undid the leather tie, letting the oilskin come off. "Well," he said, surprised, "I never thought to see this again."

"What is it?"

"It's a book. It belonged to the only girl my aunt ever hired as help- nigh on twenty years ago." He looked wistfully at the book "I wonder what became of her. One day, two people showed up from east of the Misty Mountains, some place called Rohan, and she went away with them; she never came back."

"What's in it?" Maggie asked impatiently.

"I dunno," Ben said, opening the book. "I don't know how to read this. But," he said suddenly, "I know of someone who can."

"Who?"

"I've heard that the Master of Buckland east of here is quite learned. He probably knows how to read it, or will know someone who does."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" demanded Maggie. "Let's go so we get there before dark." She turned and climbed down the ladder so fast it nearly broke.

Ben shook his head slowly. He was in for a long day.

* * *

_Reviewer responses:_

_**Cainwen the Warrior:** do you realize that _I _do not have to write a sequel? That's what the other stories are for! And more are coming. Oh yes. As for your ch 13 review, I did mean pheremones. Pheremones are chemicals that all animals use to identify the opposite gender; we send them off subconciously all the time. Once a person recieves the pheremones from a member of the opposite gender (or same gender if the person is homosexual), the brain reacts by sending a message to the pituitary gland telling it to send out horomones. Capiche?_

_**Angeltread: **Tell Marina hi too. Or better yet, I'll tell her myself: loarho;iuh BN;PIARJWEH hp; ouaqruiop. I copied and pasted from your message to make sure it was spelled right. Ah, yes, I stormed- I mean, rang the doorbell- of Barad-dur. And guess what? Saruman wears a _pink_ gingham apron! So there! And his oatmealis really good. I should hire him as a cook... oh, wait. I'm blackmailing him._

_**FallenTruth:** do you want a tissue? Hmm, transport will be a bit of a problem though. But make sure you drink lots of water to replace fluids lost in crying._

_**Laer:** Why thank you. That was actually one of the goals of this story: that the character _not_ get married to any major canon character. The other goals were to portray some of the more common Sue experiences (i.e. changing into an elf, battle experiences, falling in love) from a different perspective and to assume nothing as true unless stated in a Tolkien book (i.e. the ears. I also came across the glowing-elf fact in search of the ear fact.) Although dragging in all my friends wasn't intended. But they found out I was writing it and said that I had to match them up with their respective hotties... or else._

_**Crecy:** If you loved it, keep an eye on the "Mhera's Story" err... story. And there should be another one coming as well. And there will be random vignettes! But we have to reach a certain point in Mhera's story before we can post them. They won't make sense until then._


End file.
